High Score (20 page)

“Mom!”

“Well, it’s true. Ever since women stopped having to depend on men to wear condoms, which they despise, we are truly masters of our own fate.”

“I never knew you were so ultramodern in your thinking.” Shelley remembered the large family her mother had been born into, and how worn out her grandmother had been after rearing ten children. “It’s a different world from what you grew up in, isn’t it, Mom?”

“It’s different, yes. But it’s the same, too, in many ways.” She put her arm around Shelley. “One timeless truth—when it comes to love, passion is occasional, and common sense continual. It took me awhile to learn that, too. Sex is not the same as love.”

“I’m not confusing the two, Mom.”

“All right, then think of this—with men, it seems like love is a mood. With women, it feels like life and death. That makes us vulnerable to the greatest pain there is.”

That is true. I know because my heart is breaking.

Her mother hugged her close. “Now that you’ve had you’re little…intrigue, I suggest you put it behind you. Marry Richard and settle down. He’s stable, dependable, and I sense he’ll do his best to make you happy. Don’t throw away something precious on the off chance that you can find something better. People who do that find themselves alone, unable to find anyone who meets their standards.”

Shelley sighed and buried her love for Thor a little deeper. She knew its fragility could not survive a head-on crash with an argument whose weapons were practical and starkly realistic. She would keep it hidden away, wrapped in a shell.

“Thanks for listening,” she said.

“You’re welcome, dear.” Her mother stood and held out her hand. “Let’s go back to the living room and show our happy faces, all right? It’s nearly time to go to the rehearsal.”

Chapter Nine

Thor looked at his watch for the hundredth time. By one o’clock, Shelley would be married to a twerp named Dickie. He could hardly stand the thought.

God, how the week had flown by! Yet, at the same time, it had dragged interminably as he waited for Shelley to call him. He wanted more than anything in the world to hear her say the wedding was off, but she had never dialed his number.

He sighed and poured himself another shot of Scotch.

“Boss,” said Jerry, “Did you hear me?”

Thor glanced around his living room at the four expectant faces of his gypsy troupe. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“We were wondering if you’ve made a decision about our new routine.”

“Oh, ah… I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied.” Thor tossed back the Scotch.

“What’s with you today? You don’t usually drink before happy hour, let alone before lunch.”

“It’s been a damn long week.” Thor set the glass down.

“Nothing is holding up the sale of your store, is it?”

“No, no. It officially belongs to Joe now. We signed the papers yesterday. So that’s done.” Thor stood up, stretched, and looked at his watch again. Noon.

Time was running out!

If he hadn’t been indoctrinated in his role as a tough, strong-fibered male, he’d weep. He’d sink to the friggin’ floor on his knees and sob out loud, tearing at his hair in the process. He tortured himself with another glance at his watch.

“You got an appointment, boss?” Jerry asked.

“Not really… It’s just that Shelley’s getting married today.”

“Shelley is? You’re kidding!” Greg exchanged a meaningful look with Hank. “I guess that explains it.”

Thor frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Greg shrugged. “I’m surprised, that’s all. I thought you and Shelley had a thing going.”

“Nah, it was just a…you know.” Thor reached for the liquor bottle.

Hank cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but instead of getting drunk, you could
do
something.”

“Like what?” Thor snapped. “It’s against my principles to step between a man and his wife.”

Greg scratched his head. “Well, it seems to me she won’t be his wife until she says
I do
. When exactly is that supposed to happen?”

“One o’clock.” Thor looked at his watch, then at the wall clock. They were synchronized perfectly. “It wouldn’t be right to interfere at this point. If she called off the wedding, I’d feel free to do something.”

“Thor, I’m amazed at you!” Jerry shook his head in wonder.

“What for?”

“I thought you had a motto— All’s fair in love and war. You say it all the time.”

“That’s right,” Bud agreed. “Judging by the way you’re moping around here, you either lost out in love, or just surrendered in war.”

Greg rose from his chair, approached Thor and pried the bottle out of his hand. “I’ve never seen you give up so easy. It’s pathetic.”

“Goddammit!” Thor roared. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Greg said. “But whatever it is, it better be quick.”

* * * * *

Shelley leaned heavily on her father’s arm as she walked slowly, one step at a time, down the aisle toward the minister. A heavy-handed organist cranked out the familiar march. Today, chords in a minor key would have sounded more appropriate, Shelley thought. A funeral march, perhaps.

The small church was the perfect size for an intimate wedding. All told, the guests numbered less than fifty. From the first row, her mother’s cherished face radiated pride and happiness. Beyond, forming a tableau before the altar, stood the minister, flanked on the right by Dickie and his best man Skeeter. On the left, Rita in her resplendent gown.

Dear God, let my veil hide my tears.

On one side of the gantlet, a few rows of Dickie’s friends and relatives stood beaming at her. On the other, her own contingency mirrored the tender smiles.

Oh, Lord! Let the earth open up and swallow me whole!

Shelley’s father placed a reassuring hand over hers where it rested in the crook of his arm. Was he sensing her turmoil?

She drew a tremulous breath and slowly stepped forward.

The ceremony progressed inexorably. Shelley’s heart ached as though in a constricting vise. The finality and weight of the proceedings threatened to crush the life out of her. She could hear the minister’s voice in prayer, but could barely make out the words over the buzzing in her ears.

Breathe
, she reminded herself.
You’re not going to your execution.

Maybe not, but she was dying inside.

Her father left her standing beside Dickie at the altar and stepped back to take his place beside her mother in the front row.

She felt oddly abandoned, drifting in space. Maybe she was getting too much oxygen. Hyperventilating. She tried to slow down her shallow, rapid breathing.

The minister was saying, “There are four virtues tied to love—spirituality, justice, sacrifice and compassion.”

Through her veil and through her tears, the minister’s face blurred beyond recognition. Only the low timbre of his voice sounded familiar.

A cloying smell of roses clogged her nose. Air, she needed air!

The rustle of Rita’s organdy gown reminded Shelley she was not without allies. Glancing at her matron of honor, Shelley caught the flash of a smile, a nod of encouragement.

“The most important principle for marriage is love,” said the minister. “Spirituality involves the search for truth, finding the courage to face adversity, and finding and giving love. Justice is ensuring fairness and truth in life and love. Compassion is the ability to love and forgive other people’s transgressions.”

In a distant way, Shelley was aware of Dickie’s silent presence on her right. She cared for him, but did she
love
him? He was a very nice person, but would that be enough to sustain her in marriage?

“Marriage is not a right,” the minister continued. “It can neither be expected nor demanded of anyone. Life does not owe anyone the opportunity of experiencing a happy marriage. It must be sought and created.”

Shelley swayed, feeling ever more dizzy and lightheaded.

God, what if I faint right here in front of everybody?

She wasn’t certain she could physically go through with this. If she fainted, would they postpone the ceremony? Or revive her and carry on?

“Marriage should not be entered into lightly…”

What am I doing here?

“This means that both the man and the woman should be more careful than they have ever been, to truly think about everything they do and say.”

If I turn and run down the aisle, would Mom and Dad ever forgive me? How would I ever live down the humiliation?

“Marriage is a privilege, to be earned and enjoyed each day. Marriage is a journey of love.”

In an agony of indecision, Shelley clung to the stems of her bridal bouquet, now slippery with perspiration. Perhaps she should go through with the ceremony, then have it quietly annulled afterwards.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

I’m going to do it! I’m going to tell everyone right now that I can’t go through with this. They’ll just have to accept that.

Shelley cleared her throat. “Reverend?”

The minister’s voice droned on. “If any man can show just cause why this couple may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace…”

A commotion at the back of the church brought a halt to the minister’s dialogue. He stood frozen, staring past Shelley.

A growing murmur of voices rippled through the crowd. Marching footsteps approached the front.

Shelley turned, struggling to comprehend, then stared in disbelief at the scene before her.

“Hold on!” a deep voice commanded. “I object! This couple may not be joined together.”

Thor halted before Shelley with the stature of a conqueror. His gaze held no fear, no hesitation, only the fiery light of fixed resolve. His height and breadth in another age would have qualified him to carry armor, his giant fist to hold a sword. Four young men, as protective and determined as the Knights of the Round Table, flanked him.

The minister spluttered incoherently for a moment, then choked out, “And why not?”

“She belongs to me. I have lain with her, and we have conceived a child. I will raise this child together with her, as is my right and privilege.”

Pandemonium in the audience nearly drowned out his words.

Thor’s gaze locked with Shelley’s. “I will wed her if she will have me.”

In the blue depths of his eyes, she read love and passion. Surely, nothing else would have driven him to disrupt an event like this. He’d sacrificed his dignity and crashed her ceremony, because—

He loves me!

Dickie grabbed her arm. “What is he saying? Who is this man?”

Without taking her eyes from Thor, she addressed her erstwhile groom. “We need to talk, Dickie. I should have told you—”

“No!” Dickie cried. “It’s impossible! There’s no way you could be carrying his child. Is there?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, it’s possible.”

Thor held out his hand. “Come with me, Shelley.”

She took a half step before her knees buckled. As she collapsed, the bridal bouquet fell to the floor to be trampled by Dickie coming to her aid. But Thor got to her first and caught her in his arms. In a flurry of lace and ribbons, he lifted her against his broad chest.

The room swirled around her head as he turned and headed down the aisle. Clinging to his massive shoulders, she regained sufficient clarity to recognize this as a last-minute rescue.

“Thank God you came, Thor!”

“Wait!” Dickie yelped. “Stop him!”

The vanguard of four muscular men parted to let Thor pass, then stepped into the aisle again to block Dickie’s pursuit. Slowly, they retreated in the direction of the door.

People shouted questions from the pews.

Rita stood by the altar, her mouth stretched wide in a grin. Her friend had always had been a glutton for romantic drama.

Thor shouldered his way through the outer doors and plunged down the five steps to the walkway. Taking a detour, he strode across the lawn. At the curb, a black Chevy Suburban awaited them with its engine running. He opened a door and set Shelley down on the backseat, then climbed in beside her.

“I love you, Shelley,” he said with a husky voice. “I couldn’t lose you without putting up some resistance.”

“I’m so glad.”

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her soundly. Holding her face between his hands, he gazed earnestly into her eyes. “You don’t marry someone you can live with, Shelley. You marry someone you can’t live without.”

“I know that now. It hit me like a ton of bricks at the altar.”

“I was serious in there. I’ll marry you, Shelley. Even if you’re not pregnant.”

“Something tells me if I’m not, I soon will be.” She laughed as happiness welled inside her. How wonderful to know, finally, she was doing the right thing.