Married to a Stranger Page 4

  “I should go and say hello to my mother-in-law,” Emma said apologetically.

  “You go on,” he said, smiling as Emma lifted the hem of her gown and started across the room toward the table where Helen sat. Sitting on the other side of Helen was a pudgy, cheerful-looking woman with short gray hair. She had high color in her sixty-year-old cheeks, probably because of the champagne. Birdie, Helen’s first cousin, was a widow. A few years ago, she had moved into David’s boyhood home to live rent-free and look after her ailing cousin.

  David straightened up, and Emma came over and touched David on the arm. He turned to her with relief in his eyes. “Hey, baby.”

  Emma kissed him and then bent over and touched Helen’s hand, which lay limp on the arm of the chair. Her hand was ice-cold.

  “How are you feeling today, Helen?”

  “Oh, I’m fine,” said Helen. Her voice was faint. “I just wish Phil could have been here.” Phil was David’s older brother, an attorney who lived in Seattle. He had been invited but said he couldn’t rearrange his schedule in time.

  “Me too, Mom,” said David.

  Helen had struggled fiercely, working as a waitress to raise her sons after David’s father, a furniture salesman and a chronic gambler, abandoned his young family. Alan Webster was a man whom David never mentioned without disgust. He told Emma that one reason he was afraid of fatherhood was because of his father’s abandonment. He didn’t want to be that kind of father, despised by his wife and children.

  “Hey, mind if we join you, sis?” said a paunchy, white-haired man carrying a plate piled high with beef and lobster. He was followed by an extremely skinny little woman with frizzy hair and a weathered face.

  “John, Tilly,” said Helen. “Sit down here.”

  “We will. Hey, cuz,” John said, pecking Birdie on the cheek as he took a seat.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Birdie said cheerfully, stopping a passing waitress to exchange her empty champagne glass for a full one.

  “Emma,” said David. “I’d like you to meet my aunt and uncle, John and Tilly Zamsky. They’re the ones with the cabin,” said David.

  “Oh, hello,” said Emma warmly, shaking their hands. She had heard many stories about the good-natured plumber and his wife, who had tried to include his fatherless nephews in his family life. “Thank you so much for lending us your place for the weekend.”

  John Zamsky waved a meaty hand. “You’re welcome to it. I don’t use the place anymore. I used to take these boys fishing there when they were little. Remember that, Davey, huh?”

  “Of course. Did you recognize Burke, my best man? He came with us a few times,” said David.

  “Was he that little fat kid whose father owned the casino?”

  David nodded. “That’s Burke.”

  John Zamsky chuckled. “Oh hell, I wouldn’t recognize any of you anymore. You guys were just pip-squeaks then. We did have some fun times there though. I just never get out that way nowadays.”

  “Nowadays, you can’t get him out of his recliner,” Tilly confided.

  “How long since we been there, Till?” John Zamsky asked.

  Tilly rolled her eyes. “A couple of years.”

  “Our kids never use it,” said John. “We ought to sell it.”

  “Someday they might use it,” Tilly protested staunchly. “Besides, you hold on to real estate. Everybody knows that. Things appreciate.”

  “Well, we appreciate your lending it to us,” said Emma. “It should be lovely there in November.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Tilly. “Perfect time of year.”

  “You kids enjoy it,” said John Zamsky. “Go and have a good time.”

  Emma and David smiled at each other. “We will,” said David.

  “Look at them. They can’t wait to get out of here,” said John.

  Tilly elbowed her husband. “John!”

  Emma blushed, but David put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Don’t expect me to deny it.”

  “How are you feeling, Helen?” Tilly asked sympathetically.

  “I’m enjoying myself,” said Helen.

  “Is this too much excitement for you?” Tilly fretted.

  “Ah, leave her alone. She’s fine,” said John Zamsky. “Hey, Davey, I like this jazz group you got. They’re playing some great old songs.”

  David gazed into Emma’s eyes. “It is time we danced,” he said.

  “Just don’t overdo it,” said Tilly to David’s mother. “You don’t want to collapse.”

  Helen’s bloodless lips turned up in a weak grin and her tired eyes were alight. “Oh, stop fussing. I’m fine. I’m enjoying this. I never thought I’d see this day. This kid always said he’d never get married. We’d go in a store and he’d say, ‘Look at that poor guy. His wife’s leadin’ him around by the ring in his nose.’ I used to laugh when he said that. Remember that, Davey? You always used to say that. You said you’d never let any woman do that to you.” She shook her head. “Now look at you. The ring may be on your finger, but it’s a ring, all the same.”

  David looked at her without smiling. “I don’t remember that.”

  Helen shook her head. “This does my heart good. If I collapse, so be it. At least I’ll die happy.”

  4

  “I’M GONNA have to make you quit driving,” said David.

  Emma opened her eyes and yawned. “Where are we?” she said.

  “Almost there. Every time you get into a car these days you fall asleep. I’m not sure it’s safe to let you behind the wheel anymore.”

  Emma smiled and sat up. “It’s true. It’s the pregnancy. I’m always sleepy. Although I usually can stay awake when I’m behind the wheel.”

  “Usually?” he said with disbelief in his deep, languid voice.

  Emma laughed. “Hey, it’s not your average day. I got married a few hours ago. It was a little bit exhausting.”

  She revisited a few of the day’s events in her mind’s eye. After the ceremony, the buffet lunch, the toasts, and the wedding cake, Emma had run back upstairs, removed her gorgeous dress, and squeezed into her jeans, which she could now just barely button, a long-sleeved thermal Henley shirt, and a down vest. She had pulled her shining, honey-blond hair up under a baseball cap, although a few curly tendrils fell loose around her face. She and David had escaped to their car in the obligatory shower of rice and good wishes.

  Twenty minutes out of town Emma had confessed that she’d been too nervous to eat a bite at the wedding. David admitted that he had not eaten either. They got off the highway and took a scenic detour, stopping at a truckers’ diner. The hostess seated them in a booth at the back, where they relaxed over a couple of hamburger platters. They got back on the road feeling full and, in Emma’s case, pleasantly drowsy.

  “All in all,” she said, “I’d say it was a success.”

  “I think so,” he said. “You looked incredible. I thought the other men there were going to fall over at the sight of you.”

  “The other men? What about you?”

  He gave her a sly grin. “Oh, baby, you know about me.”

  Emma grinned. Then she took a deep breath and pulled down the brim of her cap. “I’m just so sorry about that business with the prenup.”

  David shook his head. “Don’t be. Rory was looking out for you.”

  “Rory,” Emma said disgustedly, shaking her head.

  “I think he does care about you in his own weird way. Anyway, I told him I’d sign it.”

  “Well, I told him I wouldn’t. We don’t need that,” said Emma firmly.

  “It’s your decision,” said David.

  “My mother agreed with me. She said we needed to start our marriage with hope and trust. I thought that was kind of nice.”

  “I agree with her,” he said.

  “Even though her own husband can’t be trusted,” she said.

  “You didn’t mention that to her today, I hope,” said David.

  Emma frowned. “No, of course not. She w
as happy today. I wasn’t about to ruin it for her. Although I’m going to have to deal with this when we get back. I can’t sit on this secret indefinitely. But not today. She’s always dreamed of this day. And she was so thrilled. Actually, both our mothers seemed happy,” Emma said.

  “Well, you heard my mother,” David said. “She was sure I was not the marrying kind.” He was silent for a moment, and Emma saw the frown in his eyes. She wondered what was making him frown.

  “I’m glad you decided to become the marrying kind,” she said.

  His handsome face broke into a sweet smile. “Me too. You ready for our camping trip?” he asked, abuptly changing the subject.

  “It’s not a camping trip,” protested Emma. “There’s a cabin, running water, electricity. And a fireplace. It’s gonna be great.”

  “A pregnant woman in the wilds of New Jersey,” he teased.

  “Oh come on. The phrase ‘wilds of New Jersey’ is an oxymoron,” said Emma.

  “You look cute in that outfit,” said David. “Just like a Piney!”

  “Thanks. I guess,” said Emma. Glancing in the car’s sideview mirror, Emma saw herself dressed for the woods, her face burnished by the sun’s weakening rays. The perceived wisdom about pregnancy was true. Or was it the glow of being a newlywed? Her skin had never looked better, and her blue-gray eyes looked softer than they ever had.

  She held up her left hand and examined her wedding band. It too glowed in the light of the sinking sun.

  David glanced over at her. “You like that?” he asked gently.

  They were husband and wife, starting out on their life together. She felt as if she would burst with happiness. “I like it.”

  “Good,” he said.

  She gazed out the window. “It’s gorgeous around here,” she said.

  David nodded. The November afternoon was golden, shafts of slanted light piercing the forests that surrounded the highway. “It really is remote here. You’d never believe you were an hour from Clarenceville.”

  “I never thought when I met you that you’d turn out to have this L.L. Bean side to you. You seemed like the kind of guy who would never leave New York.”

  “I’m full of surprises,” he said.

  She sat back in the seat and smiled, remembering. From the first day, he had surprised her. After their impulsive night of passion in his New York apartment, she had fully expected that he would be in a rush to get rid of her, wanting his privacy back immediately, and she was fully prepared to put her clothes on and head for the train back to Clarenceville. Instead, he woke her up with fresh bagels and coffee and insisted on taking her to a street fair in Little Italy, where he bought her a cameo ring. After a brief stop for a reading of sonnets in a bookstore café, and ever conscious of not wanting to overstay her welcome, Emma suggested that it was time for her to head for the train station. He had turned to her with a puzzled look in his eyes. “No, don’t go,” he said.

  She could remember how her whole body had tingled as she’d met his gaze. How they had rushed back to his apartment and fallen back into his bed. Their love affair had been a heady, dizzy ride. But this marriage was the biggest surprise of all. From that first day they had lived for the moment, and now, suddenly, they were married with a baby on the way.

  Was it all too soon, too quick? she wondered. A moment’s doubt fell across her happiness like a cloud over the sun on a tropical isle. And then, just as quickly, it was gone. David was not a man bound by convention. It was what he wanted. What they both wanted. And you can still live in the moment, she thought. This is your wedding day. You are starting out on life’s great adventure. Enjoy it, she thought. She began to relax and take in her surroundings again.

  The deepening woods filled her with a sense of mystery and excitement. Her favorite vacations had always been camping trips. She and her father would visit national parks and go backpacking, hiking, and swimming by day, making campfires and stargazing at night, while Kay would gather up a stack of books and spend a few days at the Canyon Ranch spa. It was something special that Emma had shared with Mitchell Hollis. Now she was going to share it with David—a love of roughing it, of being out in nature.

  “Oh, look, David! There’s the river,” she cried. “Oh, it’s gleaming. It looks so beautiful. Is that where we’re going to be canoeing?”

  David peered out the windshield. “Yeah, I guess so. We’re almost to the cabin.”

  “How can you remember the way after so many years?” she said.

  David hesitated. “I don’t know. I guess I’m a born scout,” he said.

  “How many years has it been?” she asked.

  David shook his head. “I can’t remember. A long time.”

  They rode along in silence for a few minutes, each one looking around at the strange, beautiful woods they had entered. The car jounced along on the dirt and gravel for about half a mile until they came to a clearing. Set in the clearing was an actual log cabin, although not of colonial vintage. It was still faintly russet colored from the red cedar lumber that had been used to build it. The cabin had a fieldstone chimney and a set of steps with wooden railings leading to the front door. A small shed and a large woodpile stood off some hundred yards from the front steps. A canoe was resting upside down on a pair of saw-horses. The gleam of the river could be glimpsed from where they parked the car.

  Emma opened her door and jumped out. “Oh, David, this is precious. This is great!” she said.

  “You know, for a rich kid, you are so easy to please,” he said coming around to her side of the car and putting an arm around her waist.

  “Promise me that we can sleep in front of the fireplace, even if it isn’t in the bedroom,” she said.

  “It’s our wedding night. We can do whatever your little heart desires,” he said. “It’s just you and me.”

  Emma took a deep breath of the pine-scented air. “Oh, this is fabulous. Talk about getting away from it all. Oh, I love it, I love it, I love it.” She began to dance a little jig in the work boots she had worn for the trip. She’d thought the boots had looked ridiculous as she left the General Crossen Inn, but here, they looked perfectly appropriate.

  “Well,” he said, going around to the rear of the wagon and opening the trunk. “Let’s go in, and I’ll show you the place.”

  Emma walked around and tried to pull her bag out of the trunk, but David tugged it away from her. “I’ll carry this stuff. You just take it easy there, pioneer girl.”

  Emma giggled and ran up the steps ahead of him. She turned back to her husband. “Keys?” she said.

  “Uncle John always kept the key under the mat.”

  Emma bent over and lifted the weather-beaten welcome mat. “Sure enough,” she said. She turned it in the stiff lock, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

  “Wait a minute. Stop,” he cried. He set the bags down on the steps.

  Emma looked back at him in alarm. “What?”

  He walked up to her, lifted her in his arms as if she were no heavier than a doll, and carried her into the cabin. “Allow me, Mrs. Webster. It’s our first threshhold.”

  “That is so sweet,” she said. “I forgot all about that.”

  “We don’t want any bad karma,” he said, setting her down in the room.

  The cabin smelled a little musty. The great room was simply furnished with a braided rug and a wood-framed sofa and a chair that faced the large, fieldstone hearth, which smelled faintly of cooked meat. Beside the fireplace a pair of canoe paddles rested against the wall. Along the opposite wall of the great room was a countertop with a stove and refrigerator that were not new, but not ancient either. The cabinets were stained the same russet color as the outside of the cabin. A closed, gateleg table and two chairs facing each other nestled against a narrow kitchen island, which held the sink and a butcher-block countertop. “Does it look the same to you after all these years?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah. Pretty much,” he said. “Let me go get the bags.”

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sp; Emma opened a few cupboard doors and found old jars and bottles of spices, well-used pots and pans, and some rusty cans of food.

  “Good thing we bought supplies,” said Emma to her husband as he followed her in, hauling the duffel bags.

  “I’ll put these in our bedroom,” he said.

  “Let me check it out with you,” she said, closing the cupboards. She followed him back to where the two bedrooms were divided by a pleasantly clean and new-looking bathroom.

  “Which room?” David asked.

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Emma. “We’re sleeping in front of the fire, remember?”

  “Until one of us gets too creaky to stand it anymore,” he said. He set the bags down in the room that had a queen-size bed. Emma went back out and opened the refrigerator. There was an open box of baking soda, a few bottles of Coke, and some jelly jars on the door. Otherwise the fridge was empty.

  David looked over her shoulder. “Not very well stocked,” he said apologetically.

  “I don’t know. I kind of like it,” Emma said. “It has a little character. So many places people go now are just homogenous. You can’t tell Tortola from Timbuktu. This place, you can kind of feel the presence of the family. A sense of the past.”

  “Well, do you want me to drag the mattress out here now?” he asked.

  “No, let’s wait until after supper,” she said with a smile. “We might want to sit out here and read tonight. But I definitely want a fire going the whole time.”

  “As you wish, madame,” said David. “Uncle John has an ax in that shed. I want to split a little more wood,” he said. “That little stack won’t last until morning. I better get to work.” He made a bicep and offered it for her to admire.

  Emma squeezed his arm and then tilted back the brim of her cap and kissed him. He kissed her back, playfully at first, and then harder. Her baseball cap fell to the floor as the kiss deepened, and he put his arms around her. Her body responded automatically to his, making her feel at once languid and aroused. She could feel his desire stirring too, and suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter. She reached up to unbutton his shirt.