by Jean Oram
“She hasn’t.” Mary Alice piped up as she stepped out of her hiding spot. “She hasn’t had a date with that kind of action since Devon, back in…” She turned to her sister. “How long has it been? Three years?”
“Five?” offered Liz. “Well, let’s see. It was before Amber and Scott got married and just after the Johnsons’ barn fell in after all that snow. Remember that Christmas? Katie got snowed in at the hospital with Nash.”
“I rescued them. Got her home in time for Christmas dinner.”
“That was how many years ago now?”
“Oh, quite a few. I’d think it’s safe to call Jill a virgin once again. What’s the term? A reborn virgin?”
“I don’t think that’s it.” Liz giggled. “But I like it.”
“Okay, thank you, ladies,” Jill said, grabbing Burke by the arm.
“And before Devon,” said Mary Alice, “she was with that no-good piece of work—”
Jill had Burke outside before he could hear about her failed marriage and how she’d been blindsided.
“The press can say whatever they want,” Burke stated. “We know the truth. We just keep our heads high and our backs to each other.”
“I don’t know, Burke. Maybe it’s time to give up the gig.” She drove her hands deep into the pockets of her light jacket. “You know Tiffer’s going to have his underwear in a knot over this.”
Burke’s brow furrowed and his gaze lifted to the mountains surrounding them, as though expecting the answer to be carved into their rocky sides. “He sent me an email.”
“What did it say?”
“He says he’s worried that the instability of our relationship will impact my ability to keep my eye on business.”
“Did he retract his offer to meet with you at the Metro Conference?”
“No, but it was definitely a warning.”
They walked in silence for a block, Jill keeping her gaze averted any time they passed any townsfolk, so they wouldn’t try to talk to her. It mostly worked. That and Burke interrupting them to kindly say, “Not now, thanks.”
Jill stopped outside the post office as a thought struck her. “Did you drive two hours to see if I’m okay?”
“Does that win me points if I did?”
“Are you trying to be romantic?”
“Huh?”
She laughed at his expression.
“You deserve better than this,” he said.
Her cheeks heated at the sincerity of his comment, and she stepped into the post office, unlocking the box Emma had rented for All You.
“I knew what I was getting myself into.”
“I like the photo they chose for the article,” Burke said, taking the mail from her as she emptied the box, wrapping it in one of the magazines and tucking it under his arm.
Jill groaned. “Don’t be cute.”
The city’s newspaper had used a photo taken at MacKenzie’s, where she was in Burke’s lap looking like she wanted to devour him. Of course they hadn’t chosen the one they’d posed for a few days ago for Burke’s site, where they were shaking hands.
“I think we should frame it.” Burke gave her a sly grin that made her insides turn to goo. “Call it our wedding photo.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Despite everything, Jill couldn’t help but smile.
“Well?” boomed a male voice. Jill turned. It was her father, standing in the doorway to the room with the mailboxes, arms crossed.
“Hey, Daddy.” Jill shifted uncomfortably.
“What’s this I hear about Burke having a lady friend on the side?”
“We were separated then.”
Jill blurted that out at the same time Burke said, “I didn’t sleep with Autumn.”
“You two need marriage counseling.”
“They need to take their marriage seriously, that’s what they need to do,” added her mother, coming in behind her husband.
“Oh, we’re not—” Jill began, before being interrupted by her mom.
“You haven’t even had a party and you’ve kept him all but hidden. Of course he stepped out on you. He thinks you don’t care.”
“He hasn’t stepped out.”
“This is just like with your first husband. You didn’t show him enough care at home and so he left.”
“He left because he was a thief, Mom. It was part of his scheme.”
“He was a con artist,” Argo said to his wife. “There was nothing Jill could have done to have changed that fact.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jenilee said defensively. “All I’m saying is that love can change a person and maybe if she’d just—”
“Mom, no.”
Her mother had caught Burke’s expression of surprise and darted a glance at Jill before saying quietly, “She didn’t tell you she’s been married before?” She frowned at Jill with what only could be described as disappointment. “Honey, you can’t keep holding men at bay. You think you can’t find love, but you don’t even try when you have it right there in your hands.” She fluffed Jill’s hair with a frown.
“Mom, stop.” Jill inhaled slowly. “Our marriage is fake. It was an accident.”
Burke barely had time to react to Jill’s little bomb about their marriage—and her mother’s one about Jill being previously married—before Argo was ushering him out the doors of the post office, calling over his shoulder, “We’re going to have a little guy time out at the lake. If you need us, too bad.”
Burke wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He simply climbed into Argo’s truck and rode out to the lake, where his father-in-law pulled fishing rods and an auger from the truck’s box. He handed one rod to Burke, and they made their way down to the frozen lake in silence. The snow on its surface had melted with the warm weather, then refrozen, making it gleam in the late-March sun.
Jill had been married. Why did that feel so significant?
Because it made her more like him?
Because it made her flawed and all the more endearing and vulnerable?
The last thing Jill needed was this whole Autumn thing making her look like she couldn’t keep a man.
They set up their rods after Argo cut two holes in the ice, going back to the truck for folding chairs. They fished for about five minutes before Jill’s father broke the silence.
“What do you have to say for yourself, son?”
Being called son took the air from his lungs. The question was so open-ended Burke merely shook his head, at a loss.
“Well?”
Finally, he said, “Our marriage was accidental. Neither of us recall the ceremony and I’m not proud of that. Part of me worries I somehow lured Jill into doing something that’s caused her a lot of personal repercussions.”
He let out a sigh, having unburdened himself.
“It takes two to tango. Two to waltz. You get the picture.” Argo shifted to face him. “I do find it odd that my Jill did something like this on a whim.” He angled back to the lake. “Then again, I’ve seen you two around town here and there, and I think I understand.”
“What’s that?”
“She likes you,” he said simply, as if that was all there was to it.
“Autumn and I don’t have an intimate relationship and never have. I didn’t cheat on Jill.”
Argo pulled back on his rod, reeling in his line before letting it out again. “I appreciate you telling me that even though it isn’t my business.”
“Yes, it is.” Burke met his eye, holding his ground. “Jill deserves more than I’ve given her. I’m trying to reach for a business deal that could change the future of my company, and that of all my employees who’ve stuck with me since the beginning. The first years were tough, and they took lower than average salaries, deferred bonuses, and made personal sacrifices because they believed in me and the company and what we’re trying to do. I was hoping this business deal would allow me to honor those sacrifices at long last.”
Burke shook his head, feeling disappoint
ed in himself for making the conversation about money.
“You don’t intend to stay married?”
“No. But I hope we’ll stay friends.” He hung his head, focusing on the line disappearing into the icy water, feeling inexplicably sad about their future parting. “I’ve told Jill stuff I haven’t told anyone, and sometimes I feel like she’s done the same with me.”
He was going to miss her.
Jill’s father smiled, his eyes tracking a bird soaring high above the lake.
They were silent for a while, Jill’s father’s rod dipping as a fish nibbled, but didn’t bite.
“How long will you stay married?”
“A few more months. Jill’s agreed to stay until I can pitch to this guy—he believes I’m more stable if I’m married. But this mess might change things.”
Argo chuckled. “More stable if you’re married? I wasn’t. Not until I couldn’t play in the band any longer. Used to live on whims and the wind. Those were the days.” He pursed his lips as he shook his head, as though further considering the memories and finding them tarnished.
“But I’ll stay as long as Jill wants me to. I’ve upended her life.”
“What can we do to help?”
Burke looked up in surprise.
“You’re family. Jill chose you and that means something. You two have plans and she saw something in you worth pursuing.”
Burke had to focus on the water to hide the emotion that suddenly overwhelmed him. “Thanks. I appreciate the offer.”
“So? What can we do?”
Burke gazed out into the distance, where a truck was driving out to an ice fishing hut.
“I’m not sure.” He had to convince Tiffer he was stable. He had to protect his reputation, which was taking a beating. But most of all, he needed to protect Jill. “What do you think Jill needs?”
Argo clapped a hand on Burke’s shoulder as he stood. “I knew I liked you, son.”
“Mom, I can’t believe you told Burke I’ve been married before.” Jill was still standing in the post office, arguing with her mother, trying to ignore the way residents were taking their time gathering their mail, watching her out of the corner of their eye and more often than not missing their mailbox’s keyhole by a good several inches.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Gloria, just shove the key in the lock already,” Jill snapped.
The middle-aged waitress jolted, turning back to the metal box, jamming the key home and retrieving her mail in record time before scuttling from the room with a whispered “Good luck” to Jill’s mother.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell him,” Jenilee said once Gloria was gone. “Jodi and Gareth don’t keep secrets from each other. It’s not healthy.”
Jill pressed her fingertips to her temples, struggling to keep a grip on her patience. She inhaled, the unique scent of tons of mail filling her nostrils.
She hoped Burke was having a better time with her father than she was with her mother.
“It’s not a real marriage,” Jill explained yet again.
“People do not get married by accident,” her mother continued, “so don’t you dare try that line with me. You’re the most well planned person I know. Why were you trying to hide this marriage from us? Are you ashamed?” Jenilee’s eyes filled with tears.
“What?” How had her mother made this all about her?
“You’re too ashamed to have us at your own wedding? You had to run off and get married in secret?”
“Mom, Burke and I got drunk at a conference and we woke up married. Except neither of us remembered, and I accidentally borrowed against his credit, which he’d planned to use for his business.” Her mother gave her a look of disbelief. “Wini saw I was married and she thought she was doing us a favor, but instead created a giant mess. I was trying to help Burke by going public about our marriage even though we’re getting a quiet divorce. As lame as it sounds, it looks better if he’s married and stable for a business deal he’s working on. This deal is really important to him.” She thought of all his employees, the ones that sounded like family to him. “And so it’s important to me, too.”
“But…this was all a mistake?” Her mother looked confused. “He stood up for you like he was a real husband.”
“He’s a good friend.”
“That woman…the governor’s daughter?”
“He wasn’t intimate with Autumn, and she’s stirring things up in the press because—I don’t know—she likes attention and she’s used to getting what she wants. But it could ruin everything.”
“What are you going to do?” Jenilee asked.
Jill was having trouble concentrating, what with Fran gesturing wildly to her mother from outside the large window behind them, mouthing something Jill couldn’t make out.
They both turned their backs to the window, shutting her out.
Jenilee’s cell phone rang and Jill half expected her mother to find nobody on the other end of the line; so far Logan hadn’t been able to trace the calls for her. Yes, she’d asked.
Her mother talked in crisp tones, mostly disagreeing, before heaving a terribly long sigh and saying “fine,” and then clicking off.
She turned to Jill with a purpose that made her cringe.
“Who was that?” Jill asked.
“Your father. We both agree that it doesn’t matter if your marriage was a mistake and that it wasn’t intended. We need to show this Autumn Martinez that she cannot mess with you and she cannot mess with your husband. If you married this man, that means something.”
“It doesn’t mean a thing.”
Her mother inhaled deeply. “I love your father very much and I trust his judgment. And so we are going to show this Autumn Martinez, and I don’t care if her father is the king of Spain.” Jenilee made a grand gesture with her arms, sending her gold earrings swinging. “We are going to prove to the world that you and Burke are as tight as thieves.”
“Thick as thieves?”
“Are you correcting me, young lady?”
“Yes.”
Her mother’s eyes roamed over her, quick and assessing as she adjusted the bangles on her wrists. “The first thing we need to do is your hair.”
“We are not doing my hair.”
“After that we are going to throw a party.”
10
Apparently the answer to their marital problems, according to Blueberry Springs, was to throw a party. A rather large, impromptu one that kept Burke from heading home to make sure his kitten hadn’t destroyed his place. A quick call to his neighbor’s son assured him that the cat had, indeed, shredded his front mat in protest of his absence.
Considering he’d thought Jill’s dad might cut a hole in the lake’s ice big enough to stuff him through it and drown him during ‘guy time,’ Burke still called a ruined front mat a win.
He looked around the small Blueberry Springs café—Mandy’s.
“Remember,” Jenilee murmured, as she hurried by, “look like you two are solid and united.”
“Mom, I told you this is just going to complicate things,” Jill said, trailing after her mother, who had a roll of tape, no doubt for the decorations going up around the small restaurant. “We’re not staying together forever,” she added in a harsh whisper.
“One thing at a time,” her mother said, before disappearing into a cluster of women bustling about in the back corner. “Just show that Autumn lady and the world that you two love each other.”
“Mom…”
“Your father’s usually right about these things, so just play along. Pretend, and that woman will fade like a piece of black construction paper left out in the summer sun.”
“What’s with the wedding bell streamer things?” Burke asked, clearing his throat as he pointed at the decorations being strung up around the narrow restaurant. There was even a banner congratulating them.
“This is out of hand,” Jill said. She looked stressed.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this w
as an anniversary party.” Even though the two of them had been married for less than a year.
Jill was studying the room as though looking for the keystone—the one she could pull to suck this whole new marital mess back into the proverbial box. “The only way either of us could make it to a one-year wedding anniversary would be if we didn’t know we were married,” she muttered.
Burke chuckled. “Your love life has been that bad?” He held out his arms as if to showcase himself, then the decorations.
She began laughing, which caused him to join in. She clutched him for support and he held her tight.
“Nobody’s going to believe us for a second,” she said, still out of breath from laughing.
“That we’re married?”
“Surprise! We are!”
They began laughing again, swiping at the tears rolling down their cheeks.
“How did we end up here?” she asked.
He stopped laughing, worried she might be cracking up. She’d told him that in small towns marriage was one of the biggest moments in a couples’ life. While the two of them weren’t lying about their status, they were definitely misleading everyone about everything else. Worse still, Jill had been married before, meaning he was taking her down a familiar and painful road where the signposts were judgment and advice. Crossroads filled with awkward moments where you had to explain again and again why you were no longer with your one true love. That feeling of being untethered and slightly lost.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his arms still wrapped loosely around her.
“Why?” She looked up, putting them just about nose to nose.
He gave a slight shoulder hitch. She wasn’t scuttling off, wasn’t anything but present, gazing at him, still glowing from her earlier laughter. For a moment he thought she might kiss him.
“Happy anniversary,” a woman said, rattling a gift bag beside them.
“It’s not our anniversary,” Burke said, not looking away from Jill. He had a feeling that when he did, this moment would be gone, and he wanted to stay in it for as long as possible.