“I hope so.”
“Ms. Stone. Ms. Stone. How do you feel about your late husband’s impersonator being here tonight?”
The question knocked the wind out of her. “What?”
“Did you know that he would be attending?”
It was her mother’s turn to speak. “What?”
“You didn’t know he was here?” the reporter asked.
Madeline ignored the question and turned to scan the room. The place was filling up with caterers, waiters and fashion groupies.
Then she saw him.
He stood all the way in the back, watching.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said absently to the reporter.
Cecelia grabbed her hand.
She looked over at her mother.
“Baby, are you sure?”
Tears glistened in Madeline’s eyes as she nodded.
Slowly, Cecelia released her hand; fear for her daughter’s fragile heart clearly in her eyes.
Madeline turned and began navigating her way through the crowd, her heart pounding. Why was he here? What did it mean? Did he bring his family with him?
She was just a few feet from him when she remembered her very pregnant belly. Surely the man could do math and put two and two together. She stopped, suddenly uncertain.
Marcellus moved against the flow of celebrating bodies and reached Madeline before she had a chance to retreat. Once he was standing in front of her, he had one hell of a time squeezing out one word. “Hello.”
Madeline blinked, drew a deep breath and replied, “Hi.”
And that was it for a few long, heart-pounding seconds. Both were overwhelmed by the other’s presence that they didn’t know what the next move should be. Then Madeline began with the obvious.
“You look good. I mean, well. You look well.”
“You look beautiful,” he said simply. “You’re practically glowing.”
Fresh tears stung the back of Madeline’s eyes, but this time she managed to keep them from falling. “Thank you.”
Marcellus nodded and slid his hands into his pockets in an effort to look more casual than he felt. “It was a wonderful show. You should be proud.” He paused. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks…Did, uh, your family enjoy it?”
Marcellus cocked his head.
“I mean, I understand if you didn’t bring them with you. I guess it would be a little awkward for me to meet your real wife.”
“My wife?” he questioned. “I’m not married.”
Madeline’s head snapped up. “What? Of course you are. It said so in your file.”
“What file?”
“Champagne?” A passing waiter inquired.
“No,” Madeline and Marcellus answered in unison.
“What file?” Marcellus questioned again.
Madeline felt off-centered as she tried to understand what he was saying. “Christopher had, um, a private investigator run your fingerprints to find out who you were.”
“Oh,” was all he could think to say.
“The report, uh, said that you were married and had been in the military.”
Marcellus nodded. “I was in the military and I was married—once.”
“Once? Meaning…”
“Meaning that she passed away years ago…at the World Trade Center.”
Madeline gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Yeah.” Marcellus nodded. “Well, it was a long time ago. Another lifetime.”
“Then why did you…?” The tears were storming their barrier again and then a few rebels escaped and slid down her face. “Why did you leave?”
“Because I didn’t…because I don’t belong in your world. I’m not a rich man. I can’t buy you the finest things and—”
“I don’t care about that.” Madeline inched closer to him, as close as her belly would allow, and stared into his eyes. “I care about you. I fell in love with you.”
Marcellus searched her eyes, looking for the truth before finally admitting, “I love you, too.” He smiled and placed his hand against her belly. “Just as I’m going to love our new child.”
She cried in earnest as he swept her into his arms and kissed her senseless. Hot tingles shot through her every nerve and yet she wanted to get even closer. Vaguely, she heard ripples of “oohs” and “ahs” and the steady shuttering of cameras.
However, Marcellus abruptly ended the kiss. “I think we better get you to a hospital.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I think your water just broke.”
“The baby is breeched,” Dr. Roberts announced to his small crew in the obstetrical ward. “Let’s get her prepped for emergency C-section.”
An elevated Madeline Stone lay huffing and puffing on the delivery table wondering where in the hell was the epidural.
“Okay, Mrs. Stone. I need you to stop pushing for me.”
Why did they always say that? She didn’t have any control of her lower extremities. It was all she could do to ride out the waves of muscle spasms, sharp stabs of back pain and the streams of sweat burning her eyes.
Marcellus burst into the delivery room in blue scrubs. “I’m here. I’m here. How are you doing, baby?” He rushed to her side and took her hand.
Madeline’s response was a high pitch scream followed by a low rabid growl. There was no doubt about it; she was having another baby that was determined to split her in half.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re doing a good job. I’m proud of you.” With his free hand, he quickly mopped the sweat from her brow. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart. We’re going to get through this together. Okay?”
Madeline nodded weakly, thrilled beyond measure to have Marcellus by her side while delivering their child.
“I must warn you,” he whispered secretly. “I’ve never been to a Lamaze class.”
“It’s okay. I’m a veteran at this.”
They shared a short laugh before another contraction hit. She squeezed his hand and he absorbed the pain without complaint and when the spasm subsided, he again mopped the sweat from her brow.
“There’s just one thing I need to ask you before the baby arrives,” he said.
“W-what’s that?”
“Will you marry me? Marcellus Cougar ex-Army Major?”
“Yes,” she panted. “I’d marry you no matter what your name was. I love you, Marcellus.”
“And I love you.” He leaned down and kissed her moist brow. “Now, let’s deliver this kid so we can get started planning our wedding.”
“You got it.” She crushed his hand again just as the next contraction hit.
Twenty minutes later, an eight pounds and four ounces Marcellus Joshua Cougar, Jr. made his grand entrance into the world.
Two weeks later, his parents were married at City Hall.
Epilogue
Two years later…
Christmas was the Cougars’ favorite time of the year. Not only would they pile into the car and go Christmas-tree shopping, they’d also huddle together to during the Rockefeller Christmas-tree lighting, check out the New York City’s ballet performance of The Nutcracker and, of course, overdosed on homemade, chocolate-covered s’mores.
Madeline watched her family buzz around the Christmas tree, which had more food than actual ornaments, and smiled. It’d been confusing to the children when Marcellus returned to their lives, but in the end, they were all happy to have him back.
For a while, the children were afraid he would leave again. Russ was more distrustful than Ariel, but after a few months, he finally came around. On Marcellus and Madeline’s first anniversary, Marcellus legally adopted Ariel and Russ. Officially becoming their father.
In truth, they didn’t need the slip of paper. He’d always been their father where it had counted most, in his heart.
Two-year old, Marc, giggled endlessly when eleven-year Russ would saddle him on his back and crawl around the floor like a horsy or when his nine-year old sister
would blow an endless stream of raspberries against his belly button.
Madeline never dreamed she could be this happy. She’d sold Stone Cold Records to a competing label and with Marcellus running the business end of House of Madeline, she and Lysandra were free to focus on the creative end of the industry. In all, they were still a glowing success.
Now, pregnant with her fourth child, Madeline looked forward to filling her home and future with love. The first time, she’d married for money. This time, she got it right and married for love.
“Uh-oh. You’re under the mistletoe,” Ariel chanted. “You know what that means, Daddy. You gotta kiss Mommy.”
Marcellus smiled and looked over at his wife. “Rules are rules.”
“Uh-huh.” Madeline slid her arms up and around his shoulders. Her eyes sparkled. “Now, shut up and kiss me.”
Grinning, Marcellus leaned forward and delivered a kiss that sent her soul soaring into the heavens.
The children applauded, little Marc, too.
After surviving so much tragedy in his life, Marcellus thanked God everyday for his new and growing family. It could have only been a miracle that had brought him such a gift and he would spend the rest of his life treasuring every moment of it.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0992-7
TO LOVE A STRANGER
Copyright © 2007 by Adrianne Byrd
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