The Officer Says I Do

by Jeanette Murray

  ***

  Tim pulled up, running through every curse he knew—and that was an extensive list—as he saw an RV sitting in front of his townhouse. Apparently his mother had chosen to play the “my son never has a decent meal without me” card after all.

  Fuck.

  He quickly debated—and rejected—the idea of turning the car around and heading to Mexico. Avoiding his parents’ lecture seemed like a good idea at the moment, but he knew from experience the longer he put it off, the worse it would get.

  Boots dragging, he walked up the steps and opened the front door.

  Three heads swiveled his way. None of them looked overly pleased, but then again, nobody jumped up and took a swing at him either.

  Silver lining.

  “Hey, Mom. Hi, Dad. Thought we were going to meet up for dinner later,” he said casually, setting his cover on the entry table and dropping his gym bag beneath it.

  Skye said nothing. She just stared at him, misery plain on her face. And he felt three inches tall.

  “Timmy, come over here so I can hug you. And then kill you.” His mother’s voice was light, but there was steel hidden under the deceptive tone.

  “The hug I’ll take. You can keep the kill part.” He bent and wrapped his arms around her. She was a small woman, but he always thought she was ten feet tall growing up. She squeezed him tightly. She might not like him right now—and he couldn’t blame her for that—but she still loved him. Love was never a question in their family.

  It was harder to turn to his father, to look him in the eye. The man he strove to be like in every aspect of his life. His hero. Sure enough, his father’s eyes held disappointment. But he still reached out and pulled Tim into a bone-crushing bear hug. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he murmured to Tim before letting him go.

  There was an awkward silence, then Skye spoke.

  “I was just about to tell your parents about my new job. Do you want to go change and come back down so we can talk together?”

  She was looking at him calmly, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. But he could tell she’d emotionally checked out. There was a wall up. Her eyes, which normally burned with an overall passion for life, were cool and distant. Her voice, always a bubbling brook of excitement, was a placid lake.

  It was Skye, but it wasn’t.

  “Yeah. I’ll be right back down.” He hustled upstairs to change into a polo and jeans, then jogged back down. If anyone had said a word since he left, he would be shocked. He walked over to the armchair Skye sat in and stood beside it. Did she feel his support? Or did she feel abandoned, ready to be sacrificed at a moment’s notice? He placed a hand on her bare shoulder and felt her muscles and tendons stiffen. That answered that question.

  “I don’t know what Skye told you so far—”

  “Enough. She told us enough. How could you get married in Las Vegas, Timothy Francis? Married? Without your family there? Without telling us? This was over a month ago!”

  “Mom. Calm down.”

  “No, I won’t calm down,” she said fiercely. “My only son gets married and I’m not even there to see it and he wants me to calm down?” Her voice hitched and she bit her lip. Tim wanted to throw up. The only thing worse than watching his mom cry was knowing he caused it.

  “What she’s trying to say,” his father stepped in, “is that this just isn’t like you, Tim. This sort of impulsive behavior, especially with something so serious as marriage, is not you.”

  “I explained to your parents that we met in Vegas while you were there on leave. How we connected so quickly. And that I was the one who pushed for it.”

  Tim looked down into Skye’s eyes. She’d tried to deflect the situation onto herself. Take the hit in front of his parents. He was stunned.

  “That’s not entirely true. This was my choice. Skye was no more responsible than I was. I asked her to marry me and she said yes. My choice.”

  He watched as Skye’s eyes softened, and her mouth lost its hard edge. The ball of tension playing pinball in his stomach slowed down.

  “Timmy, I think we’d like to speak with you alone.” Susie turned to Skye, her voice polite but firm. “I hope you understand. This is just a conversation for family right now.”

  Skye started to stand, but he pressed down on her shoulder. “Skye is my family.” In for a penny… “She’s my wife. So you can talk in front of her.” It was time to take a stand. If he wasn’t firm on his marriage, his parents would never respect it, ever. Might not respect him. He couldn’t bear either scenario.

  His parents exchanged pointed glances that spoke volumes. The benefit of being married several decades—silent communication. Finally his father spoke. “Your mother and I simply wonder if this is the best choice. For everyone involved,” he hastened to add. “Whether it wouldn’t be just a good idea to accept that a mistake was made and everyone can move on with their lives. Know when to retreat.”

  This was the delicate part. Standing up for Skye and their marriage without completely pissing off his family. “I appreciate the advice, sir. But here’s the thing. Skye and I are married. And we’ll continue to be married for the foreseeable future. I understand you’re hurt by my choice of weddings, but I’m going to ask you to respect my marriage. And especially my wife.” He squeezed Skye’s shoulder, and her hand slid up to hold his.

  His mother’s eyes narrowed in on their connected hands, then she stood up. “Well, I have to say, I’m a little relieved.”

  “What?” he and Skye asked at the same time.

  A small smile curved his mother’s lips as she walked over to plant a kiss on his cheek. “If you hadn’t stood up to us, then it wouldn’t have meant anything. I’m still a little confused,” she added cautiously. “This just isn’t something you typically do. Madison is the more rash one in the family,” she explained to Skye. “That girl was forever getting into trouble. Innocent stuff, but trouble nonetheless.”

  “Knew I liked that girl,” Skye murmured.

  “What your mother was attempting to say is that if this is your choice, then I’m glad you’re sticking by it. Not what we expected, but that’s what happens with kids.” His dad winked. “They grow up and continue surprising you.”

  It wasn’t the best place to end the conversation, but it certainly wasn’t the worst either. “I don’t smell a roast. Didn’t get here in time, Mom?”

  His mother gave a wry smile. “My groceries met an unfortunate end when I was startled by Skye in the kitchen. I’m afraid they’re a wash.”

  “Looks like we’re going out.”

  ***

  Skye absorbed every moment with Tim’s parents. These were the people who had shaped his life. Raised him, given him the moral foundation for his existence. By his own admission, Tim’s father was his hero and his mother was Superwoman. How could she ignore their influence?

  Tim drove them to a chain restaurant. Fletchers might have been nicer, but she didn’t want her first dinner with her in-laws to be witnessed by the people she was supposed to supervise. Awkward. While waiting for a table, Tim’s father, Timothy Senior, entertained them with amusing stories of his days in the Corps. Every so often, Tim would finish the story, or remind him of a detail he’d left out. Obviously these were well-known tales in the family told mostly for her benefit. But she soaked up every word. His humor was at times a bit raunchy, a bit on the crude side. And more than once Tim’s mother gave him a playful swat on the arm and told him to watch his language in a mild tone.

  So much of her husband was mirrored in his father’s movements. His speech. The way they both tilted their heads back when they laughed. Timothy was a good-looking man, fit for his age, and she found him charming and utterly endearing. She could see Tim being very similar in appearance and mannerisms in thirty years.

  Why she was thinking t
hirty years down the road when she wasn’t even sure about tomorrow was beyond her.

  His mother was another story altogether. Where Tim’s father was loud, she was soft. While Senior used rough language at times, her vocabulary was more refined. She was graceful and serene. Able to command attention and respect through her understated nature. Some shouted to be heard in a crowd. Susie O’Shay merely had to whisper.

  And while her husband seemed almost to forget entirely the manner of their elopement, Susie was definitely on her guard. While Skye was observing Tim’s parents, she realized she was being watched in return. Though his mother made no comment as to her observations, Skye felt very much like a bug under a microscope.

  Skye had to admit, she likely wasn’t even coming close to measuring up to Tim’s mother’s standards. The woman had been wearing the same outfit all day, and it looked as crisp as when she’d first scared Skye in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Skye had changed into fresh clothing before leaving—a pair of white cotton pants and a bright tunic—and she felt her outfit already drooping and wrinkling. The woman’s jewelry was understatement personified, and Skye’s made a great big statement. Skye hoped it was that she liked fun, colorful things and bright accessories. Her fear was that Susie read the statement more as I like cheap stuff.

  Not that she was attempting to impress. No, that wasn’t the point. But all the same, she didn’t want to alienate Tim’s family. Skye couldn’t help but look at Tim’s mother and realize this was the type of woman Tim likely had been waiting for. A calm soul with a quiet nature. Simple refinement wrapped in a beautiful, sophisticated package and tied with a classy bow.

  Skye couldn’t find the word “calm” in the dictionary.

  Tim’s father finished another joke and she saw her opportunity.

  “Tell me a story about Tim as a child,” she asked.

  “What kind? There are millions,” his mother said with a smile.

  “Something embarrassing,” Skye replied, giving Tim a wicked grin. “Something I can pull out later to tease him with when I need to keep him in line.”

  His mother considered her for a moment, then nodded. “Let’s see. An embarrassing story. Oh! Has Madison shared the laundry mix-up?”

  “Nope. Sounds promising though. Let’s hear it,” Skye said, leaning in conspiratorially.

  “Mom. Come on.” Tim groaned.

  “Shush. It’s story time,” Skye reprimanded.

  Tim merely buried his face in his arms and groaned again.

  “When Tim was in the seventh grade—”

  “Sixth,” he corrected in a muffled voice, not looking up. Skye bit back a laugh and rubbed his neck soothingly.

  “Fine, sixth,” his mother continued, unruffled. “Timothy was deployed and I was ill. I’d been sick for days, running a high fever. But the kids were so active at that point, they weren’t around to help out with chores much. So I had to manage the bare essentials myself until I was feeling better. Laundry was the worst. My most hated chore,” she explained.

  “Mine too!” Skye said on a laugh. “There’s nothing more boring than folding clothing.”

  “Nothing,” Susie agreed. “In my feverish delusions, I’d put the laundry in the wrong places. Unfortunately, Tim had this habit of waking up with a minute to spare to get out the door for school. He had it down to a science, how much time he needed to get up, get dressed, grab a handful of breakfast, and go. We’re talking nanoseconds.”

  “Susie quickly learned how to turn most of her breakfast foods into on-the-go meals that Tim could eat on the bus.” Timothy laughed.

  “Adapt and overcome. If you need a good recipe for a breakfast wrap, let me know,” Susie said dryly. “Apparently he was running a few nanoseconds behind one morning, grabbed the first thing out of the drawers to dress in, not caring if it matched, and took off to school. And when he got to gym class and started to change, there was an unfortunate surprise.”

  Skye smiled, sure she knew what was coming.

  “I had mixed some of Madison’s favorite workout shorts in with his boxers.”

  Skye laughed. “Tell me they were hot pink.”

  Susie’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Better. Powder Puff Girls.”

  “And boom goes the dynamite,” Tim muttered to no one in particular.

  Skye couldn’t contain the hoot of laughter, picturing the twelve-year-old version of Tim wearing his sister’s shorts, face beet red. When she had wiped a tear away, she turned to Tim and said, “But you always wake up early now.”

  “And now you know why,” he replied, sending her on another round of laughter.

  Chapter 12

  Their food arrived, and Skye dug into her salad, starving after a long day at work.

  “Tim, do you want a part of this chicken? I won’t eat it all.”

  “Sure.” Tim held his plate out for his mom to slip some meat on. He nudged Skye with his shoulder. “I won’t bother asking if you want some of my steak.”

  “Oh, but sharing’s what married people do,” his mom said in a teasing voice.

  “That’s okay, I don’t eat meat,” Skye said easily and took another bite of salad. But the food stuck in her throat when she looked up and saw the stunned faces of her in-laws.

  “None at all?” his father asked, apparently too shocked to comprehend the concept.

  “Rarely. I’m not a die-hard vegan, but I don’t eat it when there’s a non-meat option available.” She worked hard to keep her voice even. Why was it hitting her so hard? This confusing do they like me? trap she felt stuck in.

  “That must be hard,” Susie murmured. Her face was passive, no censure.

  “It can be. But it’s just how I was raised.”

  Susie smiled then. “I guess I won’t be passing on a copy of my recipe box, since nine out of ten have meat in them for these carnivores.”

  Skye laughed, glad for the mild joke to keep things light.

  “I remember you said you’re working?” Susie asked, taking a sip of water.

  “I am. Today was my first day. I’m a floor manager at Fletchers, downtown.”

  “Skye worked at the hotel that the guys and I stayed at in Vegas. She snagged a job fast down here thanks to her experience.”

  The pleased, proud tone in Tim’s voice made her flush. She took a sip of water to hide her smile.

  “Sounds like you’ve got a knack for customer service,” Timothy said.

  “I like working with people. They make it interesting. I’m not sure I could ever be a manager that just runs books and has business meetings all day. I need the interaction with people. I’d die of boredom otherwise.”

  “Will you want to continue working or stay home eventually?”

  “Um…”

  “I mean, when you have children. Will you want to stay home when you start a family?”

  “Mom.” Tim’s voice was quiet but solid as steel.

  “Is restaurant management something you can move around with?”

  “Susie,” Timothy muttered under his breath.

  “What?” She looked at her husband, then sighed and folded her hands on the table. “I’m sorry, but I simply can’t ignore the elephant in the room. They’re married now. These are things that Skye needs to consider. They both need to consider.”

  Tim said something to his mother, but Skye didn’t listen. Children? Portable careers? Staying at home? The possibilities, options, and choices swirled in Skye’s head. Susie was right. Once again, these were things married people knew before they took the plunge. And what were Tim’s expectations? Did he want kids right away? Did he want to wait? Did he not want them at all?

  For the first time in her life, Skye felt a moment of true panic. Her “go with the flow, follow Fate wherever it leads” attitude suddenly seemed less like a good id
ea and more like a liability.

  Liability—oh. Was that how Tim would see her? Dragging her from spot to spot?

  You’re getting way too far ahead of yourself. Three deep breaths, and let it go. Either things will work, or they won’t. But having a panic attack in front of Tim’s parents won’t help a damn thing.

  “So that’s the end of it, Mom. No more butting in.”

  Tim’s mother nodded, her mouth drawn into a tight line. Part of Skye wanted to add in a few choice words herself, and the other part whispered she was just a mother protecting her child the best way she could.

  The conversation came to an awkward halt thanks to some silent agreement to not bring up their marriage or the future in any capacity. Small talk was attempted but often flatlined after a few minutes. There was only so much praise one could lavish over a Caesar salad before you sounded like a moron.

  The drive home was almost worse. His parents mentioned wanting to hit the road early in the morning. Tim said good-bye to his parents outside their door and Skye slipped in to give them some privacy, kicking off her sandals in the entryway. As she wandered around the living room, she took stock of what she’d gleaned from his parents.

  They loved Tim more than anything. She could understand, even appreciate, their automatic protective stance against her and their marriage in the beginning. It wasn’t what they had expected. And to be fair, it wasn’t what Tim had expected either. But his father had jumped on the “go with it” bandwagon early on. At least by appearances, anyway.

  His mother was another story. The woman was reserved with Skye. Not cold, but cool. Observant, most likely judging. But didn’t everyone judge? Skye only wished she knew what his mother’s overall impression was.

  Or did she? If Skye ended up in the negative column on Susie O’Shay’s list, would knowing that fact help matters?