by Gina Wilkins
Dana smiled, but privately agreed.
Even Cody’s family was noticing that he wasn’t acting like himself, she thought in regret. They would obviously decide it had been marriage that had changed him.
Would their initial approval fade when they realized that the Cody they all loved so dearly had somehow changed since he’d donned that gold band?
Late that afternoon, Granny Fran drew Dana inside for a chat alone. Since no one followed them in, Dana assumed the older woman had let the others know she wanted her new granddaughter-in-law to herself. She steeled herself for what was to come.
Frances sat on the sofa in her living room and patted the cushion beside her. “Come sit beside me.”
Dana perched carefully on the overstuffed sofa. “Did you want to talk to me, Granny Fran?” she asked, having been specifically requested to use the affectionate nickname the others called her.
“Yes, dear.” Frances rested a hand on Dana’s arm. “I know about your family problems. Cody said you’ve been almost single-handedly holding your family together for quite a while now.”
Dana squirmed, uncomfortable at that image. Was that really how Cody saw it? “I’ve only done what was necessary,” she explained.
“Cody tells me you are a young woman who takes her commitments and her responsibilities very seriously. He’s told me how hard you’ve worked to earn your degree, how devoted you’ve been to your stepmother and your little brother. It’s obvious that he admires you very much.”
Dana looked down at her lap. Admiration was one thing—love something else, entirely. And she found that she very much wanted both from Cody. “It’s very kind of him to say so,” she said mechanically.
“He wasn’t being kind, dear. He was being a very proud husband. He wanted me to know what a fine young woman he has married.”
Dana swallowed hard.
“I think it’s been a long time since you’ve had anyone to turn to with your own problems,” Frances said gently. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you now, if you’d like to talk. Something seems to be bothering you, and if there’s anything I can do, anything at all…”
“Thank you,” Dana choked out, blinking rapidly. “But I don’t—”
“I’m not trying to pry, Dana. It’s just that I consider you one of my own now, and my grandchildren have always been able to come to me with their problems. I want you to feel free to do so, as well.”
Dana was so tempted. Frances Carson was such a kind and obviously caring woman. But it had been so long since Dana had felt free to burden anyone else with her own problems. So long that she’d been the one who had to find her own answers. Until Cody had made her problems his own, and had offered to help her shoulder them.
Had he sacrificed his own needs in the process? Was that why he’d changed—why he’d seemed so anxious lately? So grimly determined to be the perfect mate?
Dana didn’t know what set her off. One minute she was shaking her head, telling Granny Fran she had no problems—and in the next minute she heard herself spilling the whole story, from start to finish. From Jake’s impulsive suggestion of a practical joke on the Carson family, to Dana’s own adaptation of the charade for her stepmother’s benefit. From her fears for Andy’s future to Cody’s unselfish offer to help her raise him.
She told Granny Fran the circumstances of their hasty wedding. The promises Cody had made to Barbara—and to Dana. The promises Dana had made in return.
And Frances listened to the whole complicated tale without saying a word, though she couldn’t help shaking her head a few times.
When Dana had finished, she waited apprehensively for a reaction.
She didn’t expect Cody’s grandmother to place an arm around her, hug her warmly and say, “Oh, you poor dear. What a difficult time you’ve had. It’s no wonder you’re so confused. Or Cody, either.”
Dana dashed at her wet eyes with an impatient hand. “Cody’s trying so hard,” she whispered. “He’s taking his promises very seriously.”
“He’s trying too hard, isn’t he, dear?”
Dana nodded miserably. “I don’t think he’s very happy. He acts as though he’s terrified of making a mistake, doing or saying the wrong thing. How can he be happy in this marriage if he’s afraid to be himself?”
Frances sighed and sat for a moment in silence, Dana’s hands in hers. And then she smiled ruefully. “Most people who know my grandson would never believe that he has a terrible problem with insecurity. That he’s been fighting a battle with low self-esteem for more years than I like to think about.”
Dana’s head lifted. She knew about Cody’s problems—at least, some of them-but she’d understood that his family had been kept in the dark. Just how much did his grandmother know?
“I suspect you are aware that Cody once had a problem with drinking,” Frances said, almost as though she’d read Dana’s mind.
Dana gulped. “Well, yes, he told me, but—”
“But he thinks I don’t know,” Frances completed wryly. “He’s wrong, of course. The family knows. We just didn’t accept it until it was almost too late. His parents and I told ourselves that he was simply going through that wild stage many young men have to travel on their paths to maturity. We underestimated the problem. We were terribly wrong not to get involved sooner. Cody blames himself. Bill and Evelyn and I blame ourselves.”
“I told Cody that it’s time to let the past—and the guilt—go,” Dana murmured. “I’ve tried to tell him that he paid for his mistakes and that he’s done a wonderful job of turning his life around. He seems to find it hard to accept.”
Frances nodded sadly. “That car accident almost killed him, in more ways than one. He was so wracked with self-recrimination that it broke my heart. There was a time when I wondered if I would ever hear him laugh again. After that, he seemed to shrug everything off with a laugh and a wisecrack, as though nothing mattered very deeply to him. I knew, of course, that just the opposite was true.”
“He had me fooled,” Dana admitted. “For a while, I thought he was little more than a good-looking clown. There were times when I thought I saw something more behind the facade, but he was so very good at hiding it. Now that he’s convinced himself that he has to be serious and responsible—for my sake and Andy’s—I miss his teasing and his laughter. And I don’t want to be guarded and protected by him, Granny Fran. Not from a misplaced sense of obligation or a determination to prove that he’s competent and dependable. I want to be.”
“Loved?” the older woman gently supplied when Dana hesitated.
Dana nodded mutely.
“My dear, do you really think Cody would be trying this hard if he didn’t love you? Do you really think earning your approval would matter so very much to him if he didn’t care very deeply?”
Dana’s eyes widened. “But—”
Frances smiled. “Let me tell you a little more about my Cody, dear. As his wife, there are several things I think you should know.”
Leaving Bill, Evelyn and Arlene to stay the night in Frances’s two spare bedrooms, the second generation of Carsons spent the night in an aging, but immaculately clean little motel a couple of miles away. They parted outside their rooms, Adam carrying his sleeping daughter, Seth holding a groggy Aaron, Rachel guiding Paige, who was so tired she was almost sleepwalking.
Celia pointed out happily that next year she and Reed would have a baby to put to bed. Dana found herself picturing a little boy with Cody’s blue eyes and heartbreaking smile, and wondered if their marriage would ever have a foundation solid enough for them to start a real family.
She told herself that she would know soon. She couldn’t live in this limbo much longer.
Carrying their bags, Dana and Cody entered their own room after promising to meet the others for breakfast the next morning. Cody dropped his bag at the foot of the bed and shook his head in dismay at the room’s color scheme. “Orange carpet with a peach-and-green floral spread?” He shuddered. “I mi
ght not be a decorator, but even I know that’s a fashion mistake.”
Dana smiled. “It goes rather nicely with the pink-andwhite Degas print over the bed, don’t you think?”
“Is that what that is?” Cody studied the faded, gracefully posed ballerina for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay, so it’s a classy place. Genuine reproduction art on the walls.”
Dana laughed. “It’s clean. I’m not complaining.”
“No, you aren’t, are you? Do you ever complain, Dana?” he asked, only half joking.
“Only when there’s something I don’t like,” she replied.
“I’m having a good time this weekend, Cody. It’s nice to be away from everything for a couple of days, isn’t it?”
“Did you really enjoy today?” he asked, looking a bit anxious. “Everyone treated you okay? No one made you feel uncomfortable? Aunt Arlene, maybe?”
“You have a very nice family,” she told him firmly. “And your Aunt Arlene was quite pleasant. After spending three days with Lynette and Alan, how could you possibly imagine that I would complain about your relatives?”
He seemed satisfied, at least for the moment. “I think I’ll take a shower,” he said. “Er, unless you want to take one first?”
“No, go ahead,” she said with a suppressed sigh.
He pulled a few things out of his suitcase and disappeared into the tiny bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Dana dropped onto the end of the bed and groaned. God, she couldn’t stand this much longer, she thought. Cody was being so thoughtful and polite that she was very close to biting him.
She heard the shower running in the bathroom, and she stared glumly at the bathroom door. And then she cocked her head and bit her lower lip as a mischievous thought occurred to her.
She tiptoed quietly to the bathroom door and tested the knob. It wasn’t locked. She peeked inside.
The old bathtub-shower combination was concealed by a heavy plastic curtain. Steam rose from behind it, and she could hear Cody lathering up. Her mouth went dry as she pictured him. She shook the erotic images off, telling herself there would be time for that later. She hoped.
His clean briefs and pajama bottoms lay neatly on the counter, waiting for him to step into them. She tucked them beneath her arm, adding the discarded pair as an afterthought. And then, moving silently and swiftly, she gathered every towel from the-room and carried them into the bedroom.
Stepping back into the bathroom, she looked around reflectively, wondering if there was anything else she could do to get her husband’s full attention. He hadn’t noticed her intrusion yet, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before cool air would warn him that the door was open.
She tugged at her lip, wondering if the plumbing in this motel was as antiquated as the decor.
She turned on the hot water in the sink, full strength.
A startled yelp came from behind the shower curtain as Cody was undoubtedly hit by a blast of icy cold water. “Dana?” he called out curiously.
She smiled and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
She sat on the end of the bed, her chin in her hands, the towels and Cody’s clothing beside her. Waiting.
She heard him turn off the water, heard the shower curtain rings scraping against their metal bar. Heard Cody stumbling around—groping, probably, for a towel.
“Dana?” he said again, sounding confused. “Hey, Dana?”
She didn’t move.
A moment later the bathroom door opened and Cody stuck his dripping head around it, blinking water from his eyelashes. “Dana?”
“Yes, Cody?” she asked sweetly, keeping her seat.
“Did you take the towels?”
“Yes, Cody.”
“And my clothes?”
“Yes, Cody.”
“Er, you want to tell me why?”
“No,” she said consideringly. “I don’t think so.”
He paused a moment. And then he opened the door and stepped through it in all his naked, wet glory.
“You know,” she said on a sigh. “You were right. It really is an awe-inspiring sight.”
Cody planted his fists on his hips. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
She sighed in exasperation. “It’s a joke, Cody. Remember them? Remember fun?”
“Oh.” He seemed genuinely taken aback. “I see. Yeah, that was funny.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can tell you’re just rolling with laughter. Honestly. Jake was right. You have gotten staid.
And it’s a real shame.”
“I really don’t know what…damn it, hand me a towel, will you? I’m getting goose bumps.”
“And lovely goose bumps they are, too,” she assured him.
Staring at her, he snatched a towel and wrapped it around his waist. She would have sworn he was very close to blushing.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” he asked finally.
She sighed again, more expressively this time. “Staid and slow,” she muttered. “Yes, Cody, I’m trying to tell you something. I’m trying to tell you that you’ve changed, and I don’t like it. I want you to laugh again. To crack silly jokes. To play practical jokes on me and make me want to strangle you again. I want the old Cody back, damn it. Not this…this Stepford husband you’ve been trying to be for the past few weeks.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She summed up her reaction to that in one succinct word. Cody blinked in surprise, having never heard her curse like that before.
“Stop it,” she said then, fiercely. “Stop trying so hard. You’re making yourself miserable—you’re making me miserable. You don’t have to prove to me that you’re a paragon, or a hero, or a model of perfection. I know you’re human. I know you have flaws. And I don’t care. I love you, anyway.”
Cody almost dropped the towel. He made a hasty grab for it, holding it up with one white-knuckled fist. “You. Dana, do you know what you’re saying?” She threw up her hands. “Yes! I know what I’m saying. I’m not an idiot. Would you please stop treating me like one!”
He looked stricken as he moved to perch carefully beside her. “I never meant to treat you like an idiot,” he said sincerely. “If I’ve hurt you, if I’ve done anything to upset you, I want you to tell me. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You’re hurting me now, Cody,” she whispered, her eyes burning. “Can’t you see? I love you. But 1 can’t seem to reach you. And it’s breaking my heart.”
His eyes were tortured, his jaw so tight she could see the muscles clenched in his cheek. “We’ve talked about this before. You’re feeling grateful to me, and you’re very vulnerable right now. You need time to—”
She hit him. Doubled up her fist and smacked him right on his bare, wet shoulder.
“Damn you, Cody. Don’t you dare tell me what I’m feeling,” she said heatedly. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself—and my little brother-without your help, if I have to. I’ve told you that from the beginning, and I haven’t changed my opinion. I married you for a lot of reasons, some of them the wrong reasons, I’m aware. But mostly I married you because I loved you, even then. I just couldn’t admit it until now.”
“Dana—”
She held her chin proudly. “I’ve learned during the past month that I don’t want a marriage of convenience. I don’t want you staying with me because you think I need you, or because you’ve made a promise you feel obliged to keep. I want a marriage—a real marriage, like your sisters and your cousin have—or I’d rather be alone.”
“Dana, I love you. I’ve probably loved you from the day I met you,” Cody said quietly.
Her eyes narrowed. “You love me?”
“Desperately.” His voice was husky. “I’ll never give you cause to doubt it again.”
“Then why have you been acting so strangely?” she demanded, afraid to give in to the hope that had suddenly blossomed inside her. “Why have you been so serious
—so unhappy?”
“I haven’t been unhappy,” he assured her. “I’ve been. scared.”
She frowned. “Scared? Of what?”
“That you’d realize what a mistake you’d made in marrying me,” he admitted quietly. “I knew you could take care of yourself and Andy. I’ve always known. You’ve never really needed me, not like that. But I thought if I could convince you that I can help you with him, that I can be a good husband to you, a responsible and dependable role model for Andy, maybe you would give me a chance to earn your love.”
“You don’t earn love. It isn’t something you acquire with so many points for good behavior. Look at your family.”
“What about my family?”
“They adore you,” she said simply. “They see you ex actly as you are, flaws and all, and they love you even more for it. You haven’t had to earn their love—they’ve given it freely and gladly.”
He looked away. “They see me the way they want to see me, because I’m part of the family. Because they’ve always loved me. They don’t know—”
“Don’t they?” Dana asked gently. “You’re underestimating them as well as me. They know you. Much better than you think.”
He looked at her questioningly.
“I talked to your grandmother for a long time today,” she said. “She knows about your history of drinking, Cody. She knows what happened the night of your accident. They were devastated for you, because it was hurting you. Yet they always believed in you. Your father and Adam spent a long time talking to the police and the courts while you were in the hospital, convincing them that you knew the magnitude of your mistake and that they fully believed you would never drink and drive again.”
Cody winced. “I didn’t know Adam got involved then.”
“Did you know that Adam called your bank in Percy and personally guaranteed the loan on your club?” Dana asked, hoping and praying she was doing the right thing by telling him this.
He choked. “No.”
“Well, he did. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you being grateful to him—I’m sure you can understand that feeling,” she added dryly. “Gratitude, as you know, is a very pale substitute for real love.”