Suddenly Married

by Loree Lough

  He’d handled the matter with gentle aplomb, yet there was no doubt in anyone’s mind who was in charge of the situation. The choice he’d given Emmaline was simple: join the family or sit alone in the dining room.

  Emmaline’s cheeks flushed as she considered her options, and as she fidgeted with the corner of her napkin, it surprised Dara to feel a twinge of pity for the woman. It must have been hard for Emmaline, Dara thought, to lose her daughter and now to see Noah finally starting over again, with a new wife.

  A tense moment passed before Francine’s mother put her hand into Noah’s. “Oh, very well,” she muttered. “I read a report just the other day,” she continued, clinging to his arm, “that said change keeps us mentally alert, keeps us young.” She gabbed all the way into the family room, kept right on chattering until everyone was gathered around the tree. “Well,” she sniffed, “we’d better get on with it if we don’t want to be late for the Christmas Eve service.”

  Dara handed Emmaline an artistically wrapped box of iridescent maroon, tied up with a huge, pink satin bow. “This one is for you,” she told Francine’s mother.

  The woman balanced the pretty package on her knees. “Let the children open theirs first.” She lifted her chins. “Christmas is for children, after all.”

  Correction, Dara wanted to say, Christmas is for Christ. But she picked up two more boxes, instead. “Here you go, Bobby, Angie.”

  Giggling and squealing, the kids ripped into the parcels as if they’d never experienced the holiday before. Angie got into hers first and stood. “Oh, Dara.” She sighed. “It’s so pretty!” She pressed the deep green velvet against her and twirled several times, nearly overturning the arrangement of pine-scented green candles and pomegranates in the center of the coffee table. “Look, Father,” she gushed, “it has rows and rows of lace, and pearl buttons and a little lady pin on the collar.”

  “It’s called a cameo,” Dara said. “It belonged to my grandmother.”

  Noah’s left brow shot up. “You…you gave her a family heirloom?”

  “Why not?” she said matter-of-factly. “She’s family now, isn’t she?”

  His smile warmed her all the way to her toes. He focused on his daughter then. “You’ll have to take very good care of the pin, sweetie. It’s very valuable, and it meant a great deal to Dara.”

  Angie threw her arms around Dara’s waist, squeezed her tight. “Oh, thank you! It’s beautiful!”

  “I’m glad you like it, sweetie, and I hope the dress fits. I made myself one exactly like it.”

  Noah took the dress from Angie, held it at arm’s length. “This looks store-bought” Admiration glowed in his eyes when he looked at her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  Angie, jumping up and down, said, “Can I wear it to church tonight?”

  “May I,” Bobby corrected, smirking.

  Laughing, Dara ruffled his hair. “Pay this little tease no mind, Angie.” She kissed the boy’s cheek. “And yes, you may wear the dress to church. That’s one of the reasons I wanted you to open the present now.”

  “Oooh, oooh,” she chanted, bouncing in place, “may I put it on now, Father. Pul-eeeeze?”

  “Let’s see what Dara has for the rest of us, first, okay?” he suggested.

  She started to pout, but one look at Dara stopped her. Brown eyes gleaming, she smiled. “You’re the best mother in the whole world,” Angie said, hugging her again. “I love you!”

  Biting her lip, Dara returned the girl’s hug. “I love you, too,” she said as tears filled her eyes.

  Bobby held up a sport jacket whose pocket bore the Baltimore Orioles’ bird and insignia. “Co-o-o-ol,” he said, awestruck. “I won’t mind wearing this coat to church!” he shouted as Dara handed Joseph his gift.

  “A vest?” Francine’s father said.

  “I noticed your favorite one was a little frayed around the hem.” She shrugged. “I tried to find material to match it, but that was the closest I could come.”

  She watched as the older man ran his hand along the satiny lining.

  “You know, I don’t believe anyone has ever given me a more thoughtful gift.” He rose, crossed to where Dara stood and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. You’re a wonder.”

  While she blushed, Noah said, “You’re next, Emmaline.”

  Almost reluctantly, the woman pulled the wrapping from the box on her lap. When she peeled back the bright-pink tissue paper inside, she emitted a tiny gasp. “A cashmere sweater?” She met Dara’s eyes. “Such a shame they’re so itchy.”

  “But, Grandmother,” Angie interrupted. “It’s just what you’ve always wanted. You said so last year, remember?”

  She raised one eyebrow. “It’s very nice,” she said stiffly. “The detail is—”

  “The detail is simply exquisite,” Angie said for her, doing a perfect imitation of her grandmother.

  “The detail is quite nice,” Emmaline concluded, primly folding the sweater on her lap.

  “Aren’t you going to put it on, Grandmother?”

  She shot Angie a withering gaze. “On Christmas morning. That’s the proper time to try on gifts.” She aimed a hot stare in Dara’s direction. “You say you made this? When did you find the time?”

  Dara shrugged. “They sell bolts of knitted fabric these days, it was no big deal, really.”

  “Your turn, Father,” Angie said. “Please open your present so I can go upstairs and put on my beautiful new dress.”

  Chuckling, he did as his daughter asked. “What have we here?” he asked, digging through the tissue paper.

  “It’s a sport coat just like mine!” Bobby hollered. “We’ll be twins, Dad! Isn’t that the coolest?”

  “You bet,” he said as the grandfather clock in the foyer began to chime.

  “Six o’clock,” Angie announced, grabbing her dress, and dashed toward the stairs. “We’d better hurry up if we don’t want to be late!”

  “Right,” her brother agreed, running after her. “Remember how crowded it was last year?”

  Dara met Noah’s eyes. “I didn’t see you in church last Christmas.”

  “Well, I saw you.”

  The heat issuing from his eyes could have ignited a fire, and sent a thrill pulsing through Dara that refused to be doused by the chattering children, the curious stares of Emmaline and Joseph, the gonging clock.

  “Last one ready is a rotten egg!” Bobby hollered from the top of the steps.

  “Robert, really,” Emmaline scolded as she headed upstairs, “must you be so vulgar? What’s gotten into you lately, with all this uncouth talk?”

  “Uncouth?” Dara repeated lightly. “What on earth do you mean? He’s the most polite little boy I’ve ever met!”

  The woman rolled her dark eyes. “‘Cool’ and ‘neat’ and now ‘rotten egg.’” She aimed a stern stare at her grandson. “You’d better watch your language, young man, or I might just have to wash your mouth out with soap!”

  Bobby’s blue eyes widened, then filled with tears.

  “Grandmother,” Angie said, slipping an arm around him, “he’s very sensitive. I think you’ve hurt his feelings.”

  “Sometimes a little pain is necessary,” she said, head high and shoulders back, “to ensure that children will grow up right.”

  “Say, Emmaline,” Dara whispered conspiratorially, winking and smiling, “in honor of the holiday, what do you say we lighten up on the little guys?”

  She aimed her steely-eyed gaze at Dara. “I have two things to say to you. First of all, I don’t recall giving you permission to address me by my first name. And second, I’ll thank you not to question my authority in front of the children. They’re not blood kin to you, after all.” That said, she marched up the stairs, nose in the air, and slammed the guest room door.

  Stunned into silence by the stinging tirade, Dara stood, blinking and biting her lips to keep the tears at bay. The woman seems determined to embarrass and humiliate you, she thought, and Noah seems intent to l
et her. More proof, in her mind, that his strongest loyalties were with Francine and her family.

  Joseph, red faced and stuttering, stared after his wife. “They say those midlife mood swings are supposed to diminish once a gal turns sixty or so.” He shrugged. “Guess there’s an exception to every rule,” he said, forcing a grin, “’cause it seems my Emmaline has been goin’ through the change for just about as long as I’ve known her!”

  He started for the stairs but laid a hand upon Dara’s forearm, instead. “Don’t let her get to you,” he whispered. “Her bark is worse than her bite.” Punctuating his comment with a merry wink, he left her alone with Noah in the foyer.

  “We’d better get ready, too,” he said, extending his hand. And when Dara put hers into it, he led her up the steps. “When did you have time to make all these outfits?” he asked as they walked.

  “I’ve been getting up…after you fall asleep.”

  “You what? How long have you been doing that?”

  “Oh, about a week.”

  He opened their bedroom door. “Seven days, give or take, working in the middle of the night,” he said as she entered the room. “Joseph was right,” he added, shaking his head. “You’re a wonder.”

  The wonder, she thought as he closed the door, is why I talked you out of sending them packing!

  Well, you’ve made it this far. One more week, and you’ll be out of the woods.

  Grinning, she thought of all the Christmas trees Emmaline had decorated in the various rooms of the house, because for the first time in her life, she empathized with Little Red Riding Hood.…

  He’d been thinking about it for nearly two weeks now—how to call Emmaline on the carpet without hurting her too badly, though he didn’t for the life of him know why sparing her feelings was so important to him; she hadn’t given a thought to what her prickly comments were doing to Dara.

  Because, he thought, you may have been brought up in an orphanage, but you were raised better than that

  He recalled the numerous “treat your elders with respect” lectures he’d received from Brother Constantine, one for every time he’d stepped out of line as a boy. “‘Rebuke not an elder, but treat him as a father,’” the Brother would recite from First Timothy, “‘and the younger men as brethren.…’”

  The good Brother thought the words had fallen on deaf ears back then, and Noah was inclined to agree. But now the words echoed with the full meaning of the man’s intent.

  As the kids of the parish filed onstage and took their places in the stereotypical Nativity scene, the idea began to formulate in Noah’s brain. While Pete Lang’s black lab—outfitted to look like a donkey—was tugging on one of the wise men’s robes, Noah knew what to do.

  The moment the family returned home from the service, Dara followed the kids upstairs. “I’ll just tuck them in,” she said, “before I take my bath.”

  “Sounds good,” he told her. To Angie and Bobby, he said, “I’ll be up in a bit to hear your prayers.”

  He waited until Dara was out of earshot to ask Emmaline, “Will you take a walk with me?”

  Laughing, Francine’s mother waved a hand at Noah. “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. It’s barely thirty degrees outside!”

  “So we’ll bundle up good and warm.” He held out the full-length mink coat she’d worn to the Christmas Eve service and, like a bullfighter, shook it at the stubborn woman. “Just a short walk,” he said, smiling. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a chance to talk…alone.”

  “Well, all right,” she agreed reluctantly, shrugged into the fur. She wrapped a knitted silk scarf around her neck, pulled fur-lined leather gloves over her hands. “You’re just lucky I haven’t taken off my boots yet—that’s all I can say!”

  He pulled open the door, held it as she stepped onto the front porch. It dawned on him as she crossed the doorsill that he hadn’t done any of the customary bridegroom things for Dara, like getting down on one knee to ask her to marry him and slipping an engagement ring onto her finger, or carrying her over the threshold. You’re going to have to remedy that, soon as possible, he told himself, shutting the door behind them. But first things first.

  “Angela and Robert were so excited. Do you think they’ll get any sleep tonight at all?” she asked softly, linking her arm with his.

  “Eventually. I tell them the same thing every Christmas Eve—the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner it’ll be Christmas morning.”

  Emmaline’s laugh vaporized, floated from them on a cloud of cold air. Then, in a more serious tone, she said, “You’re a good father, Noah. I know I don’t tell you that nearly often enough. Joseph and I think you’ve been doing a splendid job, raising those youngsters all by yourself.”

  “I’m not all by myself anymore.”

  She sighed. “Please. Don’t remind me.”

  Noah stopped walking, put himself directly in his former motherin-law’s path. “Emmaline, that’s precisely what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Dara is my wife.” He cocked his head, gave her an affectionate yet scolding stare. “I don’t like the way you’ve been treating her.”

  She exhaled a sigh of vexation. “It’s just…We were doing fine without that…that…”

  “That wonderful woman who’s my wife?” he finished for her.

  But she seemed not to have heard him. “Why didn’t you call me before you let her steamroller you into a wedding you weren’t ready for, Noah. I mean, really…a six-week courtship? Honestly, what were you thinking!”

  “Steamroller me?” He had to laugh. “Emmaline, if only you knew.”

  “Why do I get the feeling,” she said starchily, “that you’re about to tell me.”

  He smiled. “I never gave it a thought to call you, to tell the truth. I met her and I fell for her like a load of bricks. Besides,” he added for good measure, “I figured it was high time I did what Francine told me to do on the night she died.”

  “Surely you don’t expect me to believe she asked you to replace her!”

  “That’s exactly what she did. And frankly,” he said, smile still in-place, “I don’t give a hoot what you believe.”

  He ignored her light gasp. “Your daughter realized the importance of a mother’s love in her children’s lives, and she made me swear to see that they got it.”

  “There’s no need to take that tone with me, Noah,” she huffed. “I was only—”

  There’s every reason to take this tone, he told her mentally.

  “I know you were only trying to help,” he said, finishing her sentence. And nodding, he added, “And I appreciate your concern—really I do.”

  “Then I don’t understand.” She thrust out her lower lip, tucked her chins into her coat collar. “Why are you scolding me?”

  There were tears in her eyes, but Noah refused to react to them. He’d seen her pull this stunt many times, mostly with her husband and daughter; somewhere along the line, she’d figured out that if her temper didn’t get the result she wanted, a crying jag just might do the trick.

  Unfortunately, it was a lesson Francine had learned at Emmaline’s knee. Well, Noah thought, it was dishonest and mean the way some women used their feminine wiles to get their way. If they wanted something, why not ask for it straight out?

  “I’m not being half as hard on you as you’ve been on Dara since you got to town.”

  She stopped blotting her eyes long enough to say, “Hard on her? Why, I’ve been nothing but pleasant and kind to that young woman. Which, if you ask me, is quite a feat, considering—”

  “Considering what? Francine has been gone almost four years now. The kids need a mother. I need a wife. And Dara, believe it or not, needs us.”

  She gave a disapproving snort. “She’s getting quite a deal if you ask me…a highly respected husband with a successful business, a lovely home filled with beautiful furniture, two wonderful children.…”

  “We�
�re the ones getting the ‘deal.’”

  A moment of tense silence ticked by. “I think it’s important that the kids have as much contact with you and Joseph as possible. You’re the only grandparents they’ll ever have, after all, but we have to figure out how we’re going to get along around here. Otherwise, everyone is going to be miserable, and after a while, nobody is going to want to see anybody. And you know who’s gonna pay if that happens?”

  She looked at the toes of her boots. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with anything.”

  “The children will pay,” he finished.

  “Did I hear you correctly? Dara’s mother and father are dead?”

  “Yes. And if you ask me, I think she was hoping the two of you would hit it off so she could look to you and Joseph as substitute parents.”

  Emmaline pursed her lips and gave that some serious consideration. “Well,” she began, “of course Dara could never replace Francine in my heart.”

  “She isn’t trying to replace her, not in your heart, not in mine, not in Angie’s or Bobby’s.” He gave Emmaline an affectionate hug. “Won’t you at least try to see it from her point of view? She was a bride barely more than a day when you arrived. I mean, think about it—the parents of her new husband’s deceased wife? How would you feel in her place?”

  “Scared out of my socks,” she admitted.

  “And it only makes matters worse when you constantly hold Francine up as an example of the ‘Perfect Wife.’”

  “I suppose you have a point. The poor girl can’t hold a candle to my daughter, but that isn’t her fault, now is it? She is trying.” She shook her head. “Can you believe those gifts!”

  “She’s a treasure, all right.”

  Emmaline said nothing.

  “So you’ll help me?”

  “Help you what?”

  “Help me make Dara feel welcome. There won’t be any more complaining. No more snide remarks about her cooking and housekeeping. No more interfering with her disciplining of—”

  “Discipline! You call what she’s doing disciplining? Noah, she’ll mollycoddle those youngsters if you don’t make her take a stronger stand. ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child,’ the Good Book says. You mark my words,” she said, shaking a finger at him, “Angela and Robert need a firm hand and guidance. And who does she think she is, anyway, marching in here like Queen of the May!”