Never Again Good-Bye (19 page)

“Ever since I performed your ceremony,” he said. “I’ve felt so guilty. I shouldn’t have done it, and I’ve asked God to forgive me and make your marriage a real one. I guess he just answered my prayer.” He slapped his knees and grinned as he got to his feet. “All right, then. Let’s go to the sanctuary and talk to God together.”

T
hey felt as giddy as teenagers as they headed for the sanctuary. Halfway up the hall, they saw Herman, the janitor, and his wife, Ruby, waxing the floor in the nursery.

“Hey, Herman!” Wes called, and the old man peeked out the door. “Want to be a witness at a wedding?”

Herman looked puzzled and stepped out into the hall, still holding his mop. His wife came out behind him.

“Wes?” she asked. “Who’s getting married?”

“We are!” Wes said. “Come on. You can stand up for us.”

“But … we’re not dressed for it!”

“Neither are we!” Wes said.

Herman leaned the mop against the wall and loped toward them. “Thought you two already got married,” he said.

“That’s right,” Ruby said. “I know Eugenia told us you’d already gotten married. She was a little miffed that she wasn’t invited.”

“Well, she’ll be doubly miffed when she finds out we did it twice and left her out both times! You just tell her that I liked my new wife so much I decided to marry her twice!”

Laney laughed and fell against Wes.

When Herman reached them, he looked at Alan. “All this OK with you, Pastor?”

Alan grinned. “I’m game if you are.”

Herman looked them both over, then let a tiny grin crack through his usually bland features. “Well, all right. Ruby, it looks like we’re going to a wedding.”

“Beats mopping the floor,” Ruby said on a high-pitched laugh.

They went into the small sanctuary and gathered at the altar, and suddenly all the laughter faded and the giddy smiles settled into serene ones. The Holy Spirit was with them.

Alan’s voice was reverent, soft, as he spoke.

“Tonight, when I saw the joy on both of your faces and felt the thrill you both felt at the idea of doing it before God, asking for his blessings, I couldn’t help feeling that it was all in his plan. I’m honored to be here with you as you commit your lives to each other under God.” He swallowed back the emotion cracking his voice, and said, “Wes, do you take Laney as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Wes listened to the vows this time, savoring every one, seriously looking forward to fulfilling each one with her. “I do,” he said.

“And Laney, do you take Wes to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Tears came to her eyes as the vows were repeated, sweetly, seriously, with a different spirit this time. This time, she hadn’t coerced him. This time, it was his idea. It wasn’t money that was the catalyst or Amy or any number of other things. It was love. Even though he hadn’t said it outright, in so many words, she thought he was beginning to love her. Not as much as Patrice, perhaps, but she would take whatever he gave her.

“Laney and Wes, by the power vested in me by God and the state of Louisiana, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife.”

Wes leaned down and kissed her hard, deep, with all the passion that he’d held back since the first time he’d tasted her. The kiss lingered on, and her fear vaporized like a fog in a cool, dry wind. He was her husband, she thought. Her real husband. And he took pleasure in her kiss, her touch … Tonight, he would take pleasure in her body.

Alan cleared his throat, but the kiss didn’t break. “You may kiss the bride,” he teased softly. The janitor and his wife began to laugh, and finally, Wes pulled his lips away from Laney’s. Touching her face with his hand, he said, “Sorry, guys. But if you knew how badly I wanted to do that …”

Laney blinked back the tears in her eyes and turned to hug Ruby. “Thank you for being our witnesses.”

“It’s not like you needed us,” Ruby said, hugging her back. “There’s nothing to sign. You’re already married.”

“You were needed,” Wes said. “You were needed so you could tell everyone who asks that Wes is elated with his new wife. That our marriage is not a sham.”

“I’ll call Eugenia first thing in the morning,” Ruby laughed, clapping her hands together. “Now, you two go home and start your lives together. Again.”

Laney reached out to hug Alan. He had given her a cursory hug at the first wedding, but she’d felt his reluctance to hold out too much hope for either of them. This time, however, his hug spoke volumes. “God has funny ways of working,” he said. “I’m always amazed, but I’m never surprised.”

Feeling as if she would burst with joy and excitement and gratitude, Laney let Wes pull her out of the church and back to the car.

She was nervous as they drove home. Their first wedding night had been filled with uncertainty, but there was no uncertainty now. She knew where tonight would lead them, and she felt an almost childish excitement about it. Yet it still frightened her. The one time she had been with a man had turned out badly. Now she didn’t really know what he expected from her, what he needed, how he wanted her to behave.

He seemed to grow quieter as they grew closer to his house, and she began to wonder if he regretted what had happened. When he pulled into his driveway, he left the car idling but made no move to get out.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

He started to speak, stopped, then tried again. “I want this to be right,” he whispered. “Perfect. You deserve that.”

“It will be,” she whispered.

“Would it … would it bother you if we had our honeymoon at your house?” he asked. “I mean, I know we haven’t moved in over there yet, but it is going to be our home together, and it just makes more sense.”

Her heart sank. She knew the real reason he didn’t want to share their honeymoon night here. Already Patrice’s memory had come between them.

He seemed to read her thoughts and leaning across the seat, slid his fingers through her hair. His lips brushed hers, chaste but promising. “Don’t look so crestfallen,” he whispered. “It’s you I want to be with. Without distractions.”

“I want that, too,” she whispered. “My house is fine if you don’t feel comfortable here.”

He kissed her, then backed the car out and headed back across town.

Laney tried not to let herself dwell on his preoccupation with Patrice, though she knew he didn’t want to take her home and make love to her on the bed he’d shared with his first wife. He wanted to do it someplace else, almost in secret, so that Laney wouldn’t taint Patrice’s memory.

They reached Laney’s house, and she found herself uncertain again as they went to the door.

“Wait a minute,” Wes said, taking the key from her hand and unlocking the door himself. He smiled down at her, lifted her in his arms, and carried her over the threshold. “Welcome home, Mrs. Grayson.”

Her fears and worries about Patrice and why he had brought her here vanished as her feet touched the ground again, and Wes drew her closer. He kissed her, deeper than he had at the church, and she felt the hunger that had been hidden away since the first night she had shared a bedroom with him. Her anxieties melted away one by one as the new freedom of her marriage released her.

“That apricot scent,” he whispered. “It’s driven me crazy since the first day I met you.”

She couldn’t answer. Her voice was lost somewhere in the electricity his words sparked.

“I’ve watched you sleep sometimes at night, Laney,” he went on. “And I’ve fought myself to keep from slipping under the covers next to you … holding you …”

She slid her arms around his neck with a freedom she hadn’t known before and sought his lips again. He kissed her with a ravenous urgency, creating the same urgency in her.

When her knees seemed weak and her hands trembled, he lifted her again and carried her up the stairs.

Amazed at the miracle of this newfound love and the sweetness of their covenant together, they cherished each other without inhibition, then slept for the first time as man and wife.

A
fter her baptism on Sunday night, they spent their first night as a family in Laney’s house. Amy had fallen asleep on the couch after supper, exhausted from the day’s move, and had been carried to her new bed. Laney wanted to be alone with Wes, to tell him she loved him, to hear him say he loved her. She wanted to hear him say that he trusted her completely, enough to combine checking accounts and stop trying to pay her back for every penny she spent on him … and every cent she had given him. But one dream at a time was the most she hoped for, and having her new family opening up to her for the first time seemed so much already.

She tried to leave Wes alone as he lay on the daybed beside the glass doors looking out over the pool. His pensive, distant mood probably shouldn’t be disturbed, she decided. So she made herself busy cleaning the kitchen then putting away some of the toys Amy had left in the den. She tried to move quietly, feeling she wasn’t welcome in his thoughts, feeling that, perhaps, he regretted everything that had happened over the past few days. Maybe he felt he had given her too much of himself, and by doing so had taken too much from Patrice. Laney struggled to understand, to be stoic, to be patient.

But when he reached out and pulled her down beside him as she was tiptoeing by, the relief and gratitude washing over her told her she was as weak as a dandelion puff where he was concerned.

“Why are you being so quiet?” he asked.

“Because you are.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “There’s just so much on my mind. So much has happened so fast.”

“I know. Too fast, maybe.”

He gave her a considering look. “You think so?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

They looked at the pool, at the blue lights dancing as the wind rippled over the surface.

“Maybe I’ve pushed this family thing a little too hard,” Laney said after a while. “I could let up if you want me to. I could even sleep in another room if you want … if you want to be alone tonight. I know it’s hard for you.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “To sleep in another room?”

She sighed wearily. “What do you want, Wes? I just want what you want.”

His arm moved around her waist and he nuzzled his mouth into her hair. “I just want to be close to you.”

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. It was happening, she thought. Dreams were coming true. “I want that too,” she whispered. They sat like that for a segment of eternity, unmoving, until Laney whispered, “I was so afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of liking Patrice. Of knowing what a good person she was. What a loss she was to you and Amy. I was afraid I’d see how inadequate I am in comparison. How lacking—”

He turned on his side and hushed her with the tips of his fingers. “You aren’t lacking in anything,” he whispered. “And I don’t compare you to Patrice. You’re different.”

“I don’t blame you,” she assured him. “You can’t help but compare us. And it isn’t your fault.”

“Laney, look at you,” he whispered. “You’re an angel in a pair of cutoff shorts. You’re a black-haired Godiva, a beautiful Florence Nightingale. You’re a breath of fresh air. Why would I want to compare you to anyone when you’re so much already?”

She looked at him with astounded black eyes. Did he really see her that way? Not as someone who had forced her way into his life with the threat of taking his daughter? Not as someone who wanted more and more each time she looked at him? Did he really see what she
gave
instead?

She loved him, she thought as he kissed her. She loved him so much her heart was breaking. And she knew that he was beginning to love her. For now, she would take as little or as much as he offered for as long as he offered it.