“Hmm....” For a moment, I tried to imagine what it would be like to have the luxury of turning away from a man who loved me because I wanted to concentrate on my career. How many times had I been relocated on short notice, leaving behind the accumulated mementos of my life? When you live as a protected witness, you begin to understand what really counts at the end of the day -- survival. In those moments, love trumped career and people counted more than possessions.
“Hmm? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll have to forgive me, Clovis. My entire adult life has ruled by circumstances outside my control. Living without the freedom to make the simplest of decisions for myself taught me to embrace the chance to choose when I have it. If I were in your shoes, I’d ask myself whether I really want to spend the rest of my life without the man I love, just because I can’t agree with him about having kids.”
“Hey, it’s a serious question,” she snapped. Even as she glowered at me, I decided to be honest, even at the risk of being a bad guest.
“I agree. It’s a life-altering question and one hell of a commitment. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that love matters. Without it, we’re just individuals killing time.”
There was a long pause in our conversation; the stillness was broken only by the early evening crickets quietly chirping in the garden sanctuary. I could see Clovis was struggling with the issue. Finally she spoke.
“It’s not that I don’t want kids,” she told me. “I just don’t want some guy telling me I have to have them.”
“Sounds like you’re so busy fighting off the guy because he’s insisting on kids, you’re not thinking about what you need or want.”
“Interesting thought.”
“I have them occasionally,” I laughed, trying to keep the conversation light. “Did you two argue a lot?”
“Every chance we could get. It’s one of the hazards of being lawyers -- we were both trained to debate, so for us, it’s like breathing. He says black, I say white. He says left, I say right. But, maybe you’re right, Marigold. I’ve been so distracted by our war of wills, I missed the forest for the trees.”
“Well?” I poured her some more Sauvignon Blanc, savoring the opportunity to converse with someone of my generation struggling with the question of having kids. I was hoping to have this conversation with Jeff someday and I needed the practice. “Let’s try coming at this a different way. Where do you see yourself in five years?”
“Kids...that’s such a big commitment, isn’t it? And society has changed so much. Do I really want to bring kids into this world, only to lose them to the creeps and villains?”
“You make it sound like you’ll be doing this parenthood thing on your own. What about David? What will he be doing? Doesn’t he play a part?”
“Well, sure. But....”
“But what?”
“He wants to get married right away. It’s like he’s suddenly got a deadline to meet.”
“Or maybe he sees you dragging your heels and thinks you don’t really love him. He could be testing you.” I popped another shrimp toast into my mouth. “Maybe what you really need to do is figure out what you want, so you can figure out how that all works with what he wants.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s already found some bimbo who’s looking to be a June bride.”
“That says a lot about him. I guess he’s not the right guy for you. If you don’t think your relationship is worth fighting for, he hasn’t sold you on it.”
“I didn’t say that,” she corrected me. “It’s just that...oh, who am I kidding? I’d marry him tomorrow if he’d just lay off the thing with the kids.”
“Really?”
“Really. He’s a good man. I know he is. But I’m just terrified about having kids.”
“What did he say when you told him that, Clovis?”
“When I told him...ah, I never actually did.”
“Don’t you think he needs to know that? He probably believes you just don’t love him enough to want to have kids with him.”
“David never was very good with rejection.” She looked off in the distance, her thoughts with the man she still loved. I took that as my exit cue.
“Cooper, Beatrice, and I are going for a walk now,” I announced. “You’ll have plenty of time to make a phone call, should you be so inclined.”
“Oh, crap. I should call him, shouldn’t I? What if he doesn’t take my call? It’s been two months. He’s probably already got some babe living with him....”
“You won’t know until you call. See you,” I grinned. I stacked the dirty dishes and retreated into the house to do the after-dinner clean-up. Once the counters were wiped down, I grabbed the dog leashes and harnesses, corralled the two eager pups, and off we went.
We did a long loop through the neighborhood, taking our time. Upon our return, I spied an unfamiliar silver sedan parked in the driveway.
Clovis was in the living room, sitting on the sofa with a tall, bony man who had a Pirates tee shirt and gym shorts on. She introduced me to the excited newcomer; they were both beaming from ear to ear.
“Marigold, this is David.”
“Nice to meet you,” I smiled, taking the hand he offered me.
“I hear that I have you to thank for the phone call I got.”
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy love story. Once in a while, the good guys have to win.”
After we dispatched with the formalities, I excused myself for the evening, leaving the lovebirds to sort out their relationship. They were so successful at hashing out their differences that Nancy called me the following day.
“Nice work, genius. I just got an invitation to the wedding. Now we’ll have to find you a new babysitter.”
“Oh, it was worth it,” I laughed, feeling a little of the old vicarious thrill that someone was finally enjoying life. “I like the guy.”
“I do too. And we already have something in the works for you, but we’re still a couple of weeks away from making it happen. Think you can handle the wait?”
“I can. In the meantime, I’m coordinating Clovis and David’s wedding.”
“Don’t get your heart set on sticking around for the big day,” she warned me. “We might have to pull you out sooner, rather than later.”
“Not to worry. I’ve been lining up their ducks in a nice, neat row. The wedding’s in the backyard, forty guests. They’ve picked the officiant and a rental company. Her assistant will take over for me if I have to cut out; I’ll make sure the plan is ready to go. It’s manageable.”
“The wedding is a great excuse for me to fly out there for a visit to check on you. I can kill two birds with one stone. Clovis asked me to fill in for her mom and help her pick out a dress. Let me book a flight right now,” she said, hanging up. “See you Friday.”
I came up with a bridal checklist of tasks in their chronological order. The first item was the dress. I sat down with Clovis the next day and we wrote a list of her “must haves” for the gown. She wanted one that was comfortable, classic, and uncomplicated.
“No lace, no frilly stuff, and no princess nonsense. I don’t want to look like the Bride of Frankenstein,” she warned me. “I don’t want a train or a poufy veil. Think Grace Kelly glamorous.”
“Right,” I smiled, observing the woman sitting next to me on the sofa in her pink sweats. “No organdy. No tulle. Maybe something sensible, like cotton knit. You know, Clovis, we could get you a pair of sweats in white and have ‘bride’ stenciled on the front. Or should it go on the back?”
“Oh, shut up!” she instructed me, emphasizing the point by throwing a sofa pillow in my direction. Beatrice flopped on it as it landed on the floor. “Although, that would be kind of funny for the rehearsal, wouldn’t it?”
Once we established her preferred dress style, I pulled out several issues of Bride and Modern Bride and asked her to choose her favorite gowns.
“Wow, are you always this organized when you plan a w
edding? It never occurred to me to hunt down the dress.”
“Weddings are just like everything else in life,” I told her. “You have to know what you’re looking for, so you can figure out where to go to get what you need. You don’t want to exhaust yourself trying on the wrong dresses at the wrong store and have a meltdown when you reach your emotional limit. When you finally step into that shop this weekend, you should be focused on what will and won’t make you happy.”
“Funny. I never thought of dress shopping that way. Every time I go out, I just figure I’ll stumble on what I want eventually.”
“And do you?”
“Once in a while,” she smiled. “Most of the time, I hate the whole process.”
“Well, that’s why we’re doing it this way. We’ll make appointments at the two shops that seems to be the most promising.”
“Boy, you’re worth your weight in gold,” Clovis grinned. “How can I ever thank you?”
“You might want to hold that thought,” I replied. “We also have to find you some great shoes.”
“Please tell me I don’t have to buy white shoes. They always look like clodhoppers to me. Or nurse’s shoes.”
“These days, you have lots of options, especially since this is a backyard wedding, and therefore is considered casual. How do you feel about wearing a strappy sandal with a low heel?”
“Now that I can see,” she admitted, grabbing one of the bridal magazines from the coffee table. “In fact, I saw a pair in here that I liked.”
The following day, I checked the manufacturer information, tracked down shops in the area that sold the gowns, and set up our appointments. Once that was out of the way, I checked on the shoes. By noon, I had mapped our route for the shopping excursion and was ready to move on to the business of finding a local baker for the wedding cake. I checked several websites for prices, reviews, and photographs before selecting the one that seemed to fit Clovis and David’s style. The following day, I sent them off to the selected baker to sample the options.
“Don’t you want to come with us?” David asked.
“No, this is something you two need to do as a couple,” I insisted, herding them towards the front door. “I gave Mariah the guest count, so she knows the size of the cake we need. She’ll have you taste a few cake choices and go over icing and filling options. Have fun with it. By the way, I also booked you a table at La Vie en Rose at seven for dinner. If you like the food, I thought we might hire them to cater the reception.”
“Excellent choice,” David nodded.
“What a wonderful idea,” said the bride. “I love that place!”
“I know,” I smiled. “You told me it was your favorite restaurant. They have a good reputation as caterers, so it seemed like a no-brainer to me.”
“This is going to be great, just great! Remember the first time we ate there?” David asked her, as they headed out the door. “It was after we went to the pick-up softball game in the park.”
Chapter Forty Six
Gazing out the front window, I watched them walk down the sidewalk to David’s car, deep in conversation. They were comfortable together, their trust in each other obvious. For a brief moment, I felt a touch of sadness. Clovis and David had, in a short time, become more than just casual friends. Their wedding was coming up fast, and I knew once it was over, I would hit the road again. The goodbyes were becoming harder to say. I would restart my life somewhere else and try to come to terms with my loss, but this time I would feel it more. Clovis and David had done the unthinkable. They had given me the chance to be useful again, to find some measure of success by guiding them through the wedding process. They would remember the laughter and the joy of this happy occasion for years to come. So would I. That joy of theirs was contagious; it was the perfume of hope and promise, the self-made magic of lovers who believe the world is their oyster.
The last couple of weeks had renewed my spirit as I holed up in Clovis’s charming bungalow. I had seen her come to terms with her fears about making a commitment to David, confronting her choices as she negotiated that mine field so many women face -- what do we choose for ourselves and how do we know we can live with the choices down the road, without regrets?
Like a tiny bird constantly hiding from predators, I had spent years living with one foot out the door, prepared to take flight at the slightest sign of trouble. Now I could see myself putting down roots, not just because I needed to be with people, but because people really did need me, too. Maybe, without realizing it, I had grown wiser. I understood now that love matters; it is our strength when we remember its importance and our weakness when we forget.
Was it because I had developed a real bond with my unofficial protectors? Nancy had taken me under her wing and urged me to get involved, to make new connections. Terry and Tom had pushed me to be stronger and smarter, believing in me when others doubted. Rocky had been my Gibraltar, pushing me to recognize the reality of the situation with Jared so that I might understand the truth. But Jefferson Cornwall was my catalyst. With true love comes great responsibility. We no longer survive for ourselves alone when we know there is someone who believes in us, who relies on us to do what is right, what is fair. Maybe I didn’t need the certainty of knowing what I would face in the future as much as I needed to know I wasn’t facing it alone. Jeff would be there. Suddenly, unexpectedly, that was enough.
I let my mind wander back to Jared. Despite the diamond ring he placed on my finger, he and I had never really planned our special day. Was there some part of me that never really trusted our relationship enough to imagine taking those vows? It was as if the moment I said yes, Jared got started planning his exit. He had plotted the murder of his doppelganger and the campaign of terror for me. Now that he and his long-time girlfriend were in WitSec, they were planning their own wedding. How long would that last? As someone experienced in living a secret life, I doubted Jared could do it unscathed. He was too selfish, too greedy. He would survive, but what about the people around him? He would sacrifice them to save himself.
We picked Nancy up at the airport just after three on the following Friday. Clovis hopped out of the car the moment she pulled up to the curb.
“I’m so happy to see you. Guess what we’re doing this weekend.” She enfolded Nancy in an enthusiastic bear hug, her excitement palpable.
“Going to Disneyland, Clovy?”
“Heck, no. We’re shopping for my dress. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m really getting married, Nance!” Clovis crowed gleefully. “Me!”
“How’s your mama holding up?” Nancy wanted to know. “I can’t wait to see her again.”
Clovis drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The cancer is back. She’s having a new treatment, but it’s knocking the crap out of her with all the side effects. She’s gotten so frail in the last couple of months. I worry about her.”
“Oh?” Nancy seemed surprised. I was too. It was the first time I heard Clovis talk about her mother’s illness. I knew Julie was planning to be there for the wedding, but up until this moment, I had just assumed she lived too far away to come for a pre-wedding trip. Maybe that’s why David was pushing for a wedding sooner, rather than later. Maybe he knew Clovis was afraid to confront the reality of her mother’s situation. “That’s tough.”
“It is. It’s so up-and-down. We never really know how it’s going for her.”
“All the more reason to enjoy the wedding,” her mentor replied.
“You think so?” Clovis didn’t sound convinced.
“I know so,” said the older woman.
When we got back to Glendale, it was time to relax. We spent the evening in the backyard, kicking back over corn on the cob, potato salad, cold beer, and David’s barbecued ribs. Under the stars, we swapped stories about our adventures with Nancy. I told them about the appointment with Dr. Magrib and my fake mother. Clovis told us about the time she and Nancy did a stint as fake rangers when they were trying to apprehend a kidnapper holed up i
n a national park with his victim.
“Louisa had been snatched from her home three weeks earlier, so by the time we got to her, the poor kid thought she was a goner,” Clovis remarked. “We had the element of surprise. He never expected that two female park rangers and eight other women on mules were actually all gun-toting law enforcement agents coming to take him in.”
“The look on the bastard’s face was worth it,” Nancy added. “We were his worst nightmare.”
“Especially when one of them was singing at the top of her lungs,” Clovis laughed, pointing at Nancy. “What was that song again?”
“Ah, yes,” Nancy laughed. “You Can’t Get a Man with a Gun. And in case any of you are wondering, you actually can.”
“From Annie Get Your Gun?” David asked. “Brilliant!”
“It was,” Nancy agreed. “I love Broadway.”
The only thing missing from the party for me was Jeff. I muddled through, working hard at keeping my party face in place, but I was all too aware of his absence. I called him just before I went to bed. We exchanged details of our day, keeping it light right up until it was time to say good night.
“I miss you,” I confessed, just before hanging up. “I wish you were here.”
“You know what? I wish I was, too.” There was a long pause on the other end. “Soon, Marigold, soon.”
“I hope so.”
“Believe.”
Saturday morning got off to a rocky start. The bridal consultant greeted us at the door of the first shop and hustled us over to a small lounge, where we sat in club chairs and waited for her to bring out the requested dresses. Clovis was nervous, and as she rejected dress after dress, she began to doubt herself. Her optimism vaporized after the fourth dress. That wasn’t a positive sign we would find success right around the corner.
“This isn’t working,” she grumbled, tugging at the bodice of a taffeta number that lacked any semblance of grace. “Nothing feels right.”
“It has to be fitted,” the consultant tried to explain. “Our seamstress will pin it for you.”
Reluctant Witness Page 39