Married...Again

by Stephanie Doyle

  Yet another hire. Of course that meant the company was growing, which was a good thing, Eleanor told herself.

  The point was she dealt with dozens of people, of varying personalities, all day long. Working a room, making people feel comfortable, listening to them was all part of her daily routine. After an hour of small talk, she managed to find her way to Allie and Mike.

  Allie’s smile was in place, but Eleanor could see the tension in her shoulders, the strain in her face.

  “How are you holding up?” Eleanor asked.

  “I’m fine. I’m great. This is amazing.”

  “Allie, seriously? This is me you’re talking to.”

  “Seriously. I figured out the best way to get through all of this is just to accept it. Mom wanted a party. Mom gets a party. Then in less than a year, after the actual wedding, all of this will be over.”

  Eleanor could feel the anger rising. “Allie, your wedding isn’t something to get through. It’s supposed to be about what you want. What you both want?”

  Mike chuckled. “Wait a minute. You mean I’m a part of this? That’s news.”

  Allie rolled her eyes. “Mike. Please. I need you on my side. This is hard enough as it is.”

  Mike, Eleanor thought, was the prototype of a Nebraskan farmer. Medium height, stocky, strong build. He wore a beard that he didn’t always maintain—much to Marilyn’s dismay—so it was hard to know if he was handsome or not.

  Allie thought he was, though. Allie thought Mike was the single best man in the universe.

  Eleanor knew because Allie looked at him like Eleanor used to look at Max.

  “Allie, I’m on your side,” Mike told her. “Always. And I’m trying to do everything you’re asking. But Eleanor’s not wrong. This should be about us and what we want. You know what we didn’t want? This party. You know what I don’t want? Having to go out with every male relative you have as part of my bachelor party. Your uncle’s been hinting at strippers all night. I’m not looking at naked women with your creepy Uncle Bob.”

  “Uncle Bob is not creepy,” Allie whispered.

  Eleanor nodded and mouthed, Sooo creepy.

  “Guys, I know you’re trying to help. But you’re not. You,” Allie said, pointing at Eleanor, “don’t know what Mom has been like.”

  “I don’t know my own mother?”

  “You don’t know what she’s been like about this wedding. Everything has to be different than last time. Everything you didn’t do, I have to do, and it all has to be perfect. She’s scheduled no less than five dress fittings. Seriously? How many times do I have to see if a dress fits?”

  Eleanor tried to swallow her irritation. She felt the guilt, but it was unreasonable. She didn’t want her sister to suffer because of her elopement, but at the same time this was her mother’s doing, not hers.

  “Why did you agree to it? You are a grown woman, about to get married. Why can’t you say no to her?”

  “Because I’m the only one who cares about making her happy,” Allie fired back. “And she knows it. Why can’t you ever say yes to something?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Yes and already complaining.”

  “Time out,” Mike intervened. “This is getting heated, and people are starting to notice. We all promised to play nice.”

  Eleanor checked herself. Mike was right. This party, which was stressing her sister out already, wasn’t the place to challenge her to say no to their mother. And, she had to admit to herself, maybe she wasn’t as unaffected as she thought she could be.

  It’s not like any of this would bring back particular memories.

  There had been no engagement party. No bachelor party. No large ceremony. No family and friends.

  Just her and Max in front of a judge in a small town in Nevada. He’d given her a bouquet of daisies to hold.

  Eleanor lifted her head, looking around the room for Daniel. She saw that he was talking to her cousin, Marissa.

  Check that. Her cousin Marissa was desperately flirting with him. He seemed unaffected. A point in his favor as Marissa was quite attractive.

  Then Eleanor turned to focus on her sister again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. If you’re willing to be whatever you need to be for Mom, then I’m willing to be whatever you need. I want this to be a happy time for you.”

  Allie nodded. “Okay, well, get ready. Here she comes, and she doesn’t look happy...like at all. She must have run out of something. Please let it not be the liquor.”

  Eleanor saw her mother approaching, and it was true. She was nearly ashen. Her makeup unable to hide whatever had shocked her.

  “Eleanor,” she began, then stopped. She put her hand over her heart and took a few breaths.

  “Mom, what is it? Are you having chest pains? Do we need to call an ambulance?”

  Fear gripped Eleanor. A sudden heart attack was how they had lost her father all those years ago.

  “No, it’s nothing like that. Just a shock. We have a...guest. I’ve asked him to wait in your father’s study. I don’t want to upset the party and ruin Allie’s night. Eleanor, come with me. Just you. Alone.”

  Eleanor had no concept of why her mother needed her alone. Or why a guest had to be sent to her father’s study. An old high school friend? Or more likely a frenemy. There was Tony Santino, whom she dated for a while in high school until he ended up cheating on her with her best friend. Definitely not someone she would enjoy seeing again. Then again, there was no reason why he’d be here tonight. He’d been three years ahead of Allie in school.

  Marilyn turned the corner, then stopped in front of the door to the study. Really? Whoever was inside was so startling he needed to be shut in?

  “Mom, what is this?”

  Marilyn was wringing her hands, clearly upset.

  “There’s nothing to do,” she said eventually. “You’ll just have to go in. I’ll go let your sister know what’s happening.”

  With that, her mother left. Cautiously, Eleanor opened the door. Inside was a man. He stood by the windows. Tall, his back to her. His hair was dark with a little gray woven through it. Something about the way he held himself. His hands clasped behind his back. His legs separated like the floor was the bow of ship and he needed the extra balance.

  She knew that pose. She knew those shoulders. But of course, none of that was possible.

  Then he turned. His face was weathered, more weathered than three years ago. But it was his face.

  The face of her dead husband.

  “Hey, Nor.”

  Immediately she bent over and threw up the champagne she’d been drinking onto her pretty Jimmy Choo pumps. It was as if her whole body was rejecting what she was seeing.

  He took a step toward her, and she held up a hand to keep him at bay.

  “How is this happening?” she muttered, still bent over.

  “I know this is a shock. I didn’t know how else to do this. I came home and my parents—”

  “Your parents are dead. You’re dead.”

  These were two things she knew to be true. A year after Max was officially declared dead, Harry and Sarah were in a car accident. As Max had been their only son, Eleanor, even though she’d been trying to get a divorce at the time of their son’s death, was their only remaining family. She’d been listed as the emergency contact.

  She’d arranged the funeral, the sale of their home. But she’d kept the cabin in the mountains. How could she not?

  “I didn’t know how to find you. I did some internet searches. I found your company, but then I saw the announcement of Allie getting married. It mentioned the engagement party tonight. I knew you would be here.”

  “Stop talking,” Eleanor snapped. She couldn’t process this. She couldn’t accept the fact that she was seeing him again. He was dead.

  For more than two y
ears, he’d been dead.

  For more than two years, she’d been dead.

  “You died,” she said as if she had to explain some fundamental truth to him.

  “I didn’t.”

  “How?”

  He sighed. “That’s a very long story.”

  She looked at him. Full-on. It was only then that she realized she had been looking at him like he was the sun. Indirectly. As if she would go blind if she stared at him full-on.

  “You’re here,” she said. “You. Are. Here.”

  He nodded. “I am.”

  The door opened.

  “Eleanor, are you all right? I saw you come in here alone. Oh, hello. And you are?” Daniel said, looking over at the stranger in the room.

  Eleanor finally was able to stand straight. Her stomach no longer in jeopardy of upheaving anything. Her knees were shaky, but she was fairly certain she wasn’t going to faint.

  “Daniel, this is...this is...”

  “Max Harper,” Max said, reaching out to shake Daniel’s hand.

  Daniel’s eyes got wide. “Oh, my goodness. You’re...you’re...”

  “I’m Eleanor’s not-dead husband.”

  Chapter Three

  “AND YOU ARE?” Max asked.

  He knew. In his heart of hearts, he knew coming back here now might be too late. But he had to try. Of course she would have moved on. Of course she would have remarried.

  She might have done that even if he hadn’t been declared dead.

  He looked at her again because he could. Because he was alive, standing in her family home—a place he’d been to on a couple occasions during their short marriage. He knew she was experiencing shock. But it wasn’t all that different for him, either.

  Because there was a time when he never thought he would see her again.

  Eleanor.

  She’d always been beautiful. Long, chestnut hair, dark brown eyes. Lips that were a smidge bigger than they should, which made every man around her want to kiss them.

  Two and half years had only added to that beauty. Instead of the young woman he’d first met, full of all the hope and excitement of the future that was coming, now she was fully a woman.

  He’d loved that young woman. Desperately. This person he wanted to get to know. If she would give him a chance. If this man wasn’t who Max suspected he was.

  He held his breath waiting for the introduction.

  Waiting to hear the word husband.

  “I’m Daniel Reynolds. Eleanor’s date for this evening. And this suddenly got very awkward.”

  Date. Not husband. Not boyfriend. Date. The relief was palpable.

  Max turned his attention to Eleanor, who was slipping out of her shoes.

  “I need to run upstairs and freshen up. Max...” It was as if she was having a hard time saying his name, like she could barely push the word out of her mouth. “Max...you need to stay in here. I don’t want to needlessly...upset anyone.”

  Except the door swung open, and Max turned his attention to the newest arrival.

  “It’s true! Oh, my God. You’re alive. Max!” Allie ran to him and flew into his arms. He caught Eleanor’s sister and swirled her around.

  “Allie,” he said into her pretty, soft brown hair. Finally. Someone who was actually happy to see him. Happy that he was alive. He’d adored Allie as if she’d been his real little sister. He’d known the feeling was mutual. Now, here she was in his arms, clinging to him.

  Quite the opposite of her sister, Eleanor.

  After too long a moment, he finally set her down. “Look at you. You’re all grown up.”

  She beamed at him, and he wanted to ingest that smile because it was something else he never thought he would see again.

  “This is—I can’t even... How is this possible?”

  “Apparently, it’s a very long story,” Eleanor said.

  A man walked in behind Allie, then shut the door.

  “Mike,” Allie said, clearly getting emotional. “It’s Max. He’s alive.”

  “Better than dead, I imagine,” Mike said, obviously trying to keep things light.

  Max liked him instantly.

  “A lot better than dead,” Max agreed.

  “Mike Davies.”

  “Max Harper.”

  Max shook the man’s hand and assessed him. A little taller than Allie. A little stockier. He had a firm handshake and made direct eye contact. And when he looked at Allie it was as if the only thing that mattered right now was how she was dealing with the situation.

  Yes. Max approved of Mike. As her pseudo older brother, he knew that would mean something to Allie.

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but I need a drink.” This came from Daniel. The Date. “Can I get anyone anything?”

  “Bourbon,” Max said. “If you have it.”

  “Of course we have bourbon,” Eleanor said as if he’d suggested something ridiculous.

  She was flustered. She was still processing. She wore a stunning navy dress, and suddenly he realized he wanted everyone to leave so that he could be alone with his wife.

  “Okay, okay,” she muttered. As if she was a general coming up with a game plan. “Here is what we’re going to do. Daniel, if you would be so kind to bring the bottle of bourbon back here, that would be great. I’m going to clean champagne off my favorite pair of shoes. Allie and Mike, you have to go out there and mingle. If you stay in here, people will wonder what’s happening. I don’t want anyone to see him.”

  “Why not?” her sister asked. “He’s alive. It’s not like he has to be hidden.”

  “Allie,” Eleanor snapped again. “Please. I get you’re happy to see him. But I think we all need to remember...how things were between Max and me...before...”

  “I died. Except I didn’t.”

  Eleanor looked at him then, and he remembered that expression. It was her way of telling him to go shut it. He’d missed that look. He’d missed everything about her.

  Daniel. Date. Not boyfriend. Not husband. Date.

  He could work with that.

  “Eleanor...” Allie said as if this was something she was willing to put up a fight over.

  “Allie, do what your sister says,” Max said. “This isn’t going to be easy. For any of us. We’ll catch up later. You can tell me if this guy is worthy of you.”

  She beamed again, only this time it clearly wasn’t for him. “He is. He so is.”

  Mike took Allie’s hand and led her out of the room. Daniel left behind them. Then it was just Eleanor and Max.

  “You could have called,” she accused him.

  “I didn’t have your number.”

  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth, either. He’d looked her up online. He knew she was the founder and CEO of a start-up company called Head to Toe. That had been his original plan. To find the address of her company. To see her there.

  But when the engagement announcement popped up under his Allie Gaffney alert, this had seemed like a better opportunity. More personal.

  They were also the only family he had left.

  Max thought he would be coming home to two devastated parents and a ticked-off almost ex-wife. He hadn’t expected his parents’ deaths. How could he?

  He’d been by the graveyard. He’d seen the headstones Eleanor had picked out for them. He knew that she’d made sure they were buried with all the respect and dignity they deserved.

  She’d done that for them even though she’d left him and wanted a divorce.

  “You could have found a way...to make this easier,” she said. “This...it’s too much.”

  “Nor—”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “No one calls me that anymore.”

  “This was never going to be easy.”

  She nodded,
at least acknowledging that.

  “I need to...” She paused as if she had lost her train of thought.

  “Change your shoes,” he offered. “They look pretty expensive.”

  She lifted her chin. “I have a company.”

  “I know you do. I told you, I looked you up. It’s how I found out about tonight.”

  Warily, as if he was some kind of predator, she backed away from him. “You need to stay in here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Then she hesitated again. “Are you hungry? We have lots of food.”

  “Yes. I’m starving actually. Anything sounds good.”

  Again she nodded, then not turning her back on him—he liked to think because she liked seeing him standing in front of her—she left the room.

  Max took a seat and blew out a breath. He figured the hardest part was over.

  Then, almost instantly, he knew that was wrong.

  Getting his wife back. That was going to be the hardest part.

  * * *

  MAX WAS ALIVE. Max was alive.

  Eleanor thought if she said it a thousand times, it might penetrate her reality. But alternately she had to remind herself that, in some corner of her brain, she never really thought he was dead.

  He had never felt dead to her.

  But that was silly and based on feelings, not on facts. His ship went missing, lost at sea. Max had been declared dead. She’d grieved. Then she’d grieved again when Harry and Sarah died.

  She’d stayed close with them despite the situation between Max and her because, at that point, there had been no reason to hold on to grudges. It hadn’t mattered that Max had picked his job over his wife, because Max was dead.

  Now he was here. Alive. Saying to her in that very serious way he had that he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Because that was so like him.

  Showing up two and a half years later at her sister’s engagement party undead wasn’t meant to be dramatic or shocking. It was simply the most expedient way he had of seeing her again. Eleanor knew that.