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“And it’s the truth, too.”
“Just not the whole truth.”
“Truth enough.”
Was it? Well, all right. Maybe it was.
He picked up his empty water glass. “I think I wouldn’t mind a beer, after all.”
“Help yourself.” She gestured toward the coolers still lined up by the garden shed.
He rose from the chaise and went to get himself a cold one. Joleen let her head drop back to the cushion again.
Strange. The more Dekker had talked, the more he had laid out all the reasons they ought to get married, the more his crazy idea seemed like the best way to handle her problem.
He was right about a lot of things.
Like when he said that neither of them was in the market for a grand passion right now—and that maybe neither of them would ever be. In that case the marriage could turn out to be just right for both of them, and in a forever way, too.
But however long it lasted, she felt certain they could make a go of it, make it work. Make a good marriage. Maybe there wouldn’t be passion or even sex. But she had lived without sex and passion for a good part of her life. Going without those things hadn’t killed her yet. And Dekker had just told her—and really seemed to mean it—that he could do without them, too.
Oh, and they did have so much that they shared. Yes, sometimes he was closemouthed, even with her. But she never kept secrets from him. She loved nothing so much as talking things over with him. And the thought of having him at her side, as her husband, when she faced the Atwoods, created the sweetest, most wonderful feeling of relief in her troubled heart.
He came back to her, stretched his big body out in the chaise next to hers again. She heard the popping sound as he opened his beer. She turned her head to him as he drank and watched him with fondness, waiting for him to look at her.
When he did meet her eyes, she spoke softly. “Thank you. For bein’ my true friend.”
He set the can on the low table between them. “Are you going to marry me?”
“Yes, Dekker. I am.”
Chapter 6
They broke the news to the family the next day, at dinner. Uncle Stan and his wife, Aunt Catherine, were there. So were Bud and Burly. And Aunt LeeAnne and Uncle Foley. They’d all come by in the afternoon to help with the after-wedding cleanup.
Uncle Hubert was there, too. He had never left. He hadn’t been much use as a worker, since he was nursing a sick hangover from his excesses the day before, but he came to the table when Camilla called him, so he heard the announcement right along with everyone else.
Niki cried. And so did Aunt LeeAnne.
“Oh, what did I tell you, hon?” Aunt LeeAnne sobbed. “I said you’d be next and wasn’t I right?”
Joleen handed her aunt a tissue, gave her a hug, and agreed that yes, she had been right.
Uncle Hubert said, “This calls for a little drink, to celebrate.”
Aunt LeeAnne sniffed. “The last thing anyone needs right now, Hubert, is a little drink.”
Hubert, sober right then and at least somewhat abashed after his behavior at the wedding, had the grace not to argue with her. “Pass those little red pepper things,” he mumbled.
They were having take-out. Camilla had ordered five giant-size deep-dish meat-lover’s-style pizzas to feed the hungry cleanup crew.
Niki grabbed a tissue of her own and blew her nose. Then she reached for another big slice. “Oh, I can’t believe it,” she sniffled and swiped at her still-leaking eyes. “Dekker and Joly…married. Dekker will be like my brother for real.…”
There were more hugs, from Aunt Catherine and Uncle Stan. And lots of good wishes and hearty congratulations from Bud and Burly and Uncle Foley, too.
Camilla did not cry. She didn’t say much, either, a fact that Joleen hardly noticed, since everyone else seemed to be talking nonstop.
After they’d finished off the pizzas, Joleen said she and Sam had to get on home. Tomorrow, after all, would be a workday. She had laundry to take care of and she needed to fit in a trip to the store. Her refrigerator was empty. In the past few days DeDe’s wedding had put her own life completely on hold.
Dekker said he had to get going, too. He walked her to her hatchback economy car before climbing into his battered metal-flake blue Plymouth Road Runner, which he’d had since time began and which bore the dubious distinction of being a year older than he was.
Joleen strapped Sam into his car seat in back and then went around to slide behind the wheel.
Dekker shut her door and leaned in her window. “I thought it went pretty well.”
“I thought so, too. But there’s a lot more left to tell.”
They hadn’t even mentioned the change in Dekker’s fortunes. That would take some explaining and seemed better accomplished one-on-one. Joleen would tell her mother and Niki the story privately. And she’d tell DeDe, too, as soon as her middle sister returned from her wedding trip.
And then there was the news about the Atwoods. They’d have to get into that unpleasant subject with the family at some point.
And the new babysitting arrangements would have to be handled, as well. As a rule DeDe watched Sam in the mornings, Joleen or her mother took over for a couple of hours after lunch. Then when Niki got home from school, she would be on duty until six or so, when Joleen got through at the salon. Dotty Hendershot, the sweet older lady who lived next door to Camilla, in the house where Dekker had grown up, would pick up the slack.
All that would change now. But further discussion last night had brought them to the conclusion that they didn’t have to deal with the child-care issue right away. The wedding would be simple and soon—by the end of the week, they were thinking. And Dekker had proposed a honeymoon, one with Sam included. Dekker said he could afford it, and they both agreed it would be good to have a little time away together, just the three of them, at the start of their new life as a family.
So they would take two weeks for a wedding trip—destination to be decided in the next few days. And when they came home, Joleen would begin looking for the right day care for Sam. By the time the Atwoods geared up to drag her before a judge, she and Dekker would have all the bases covered.
Dekker touched the side of her face. “What is that frown for?”
“Just thinking about how much has to be done.”
“Worrying, you mean.”
“Maybe…”
“You worry too much, Jo. We’ll get to it. To all of it. Little by little.”
She produced a smile for him. “I know.”
“One thing you do need to deal with right away. Your blood test. I’m going to get mine taken care of tomorrow.”
“I’ve got no appointments between one and three. I’ll see if I can fit it in then.”
“Good. And what do you think of a week in L.A. and then maybe Maui for the other week?”
“L.A.? Would we visit your brother?”
“If that’s okay with you. I have a standing invitation.”
“We’d stay at his house?”
“That’s right.”
“But wouldn’t that be inconvenient for him, on such short notice?”
Dekker laughed. “We could stay at Jonas’s house for a month and never even set eyes on him, if he didn’t want to see us. Angel’s Crest is enormous.”
“Angel’s Crest?”
“The Bravo mansion.”
“His house has a name?”
“That’s right. Angel’s Crest is on a hill, in Bel Air. It’s an incredible place. Ocean and city views from just about every room in the house. It’s been in the Bravo family for three generations, I think Jonas said.”
“This is sounding very interesting.”
“And did I mention Mandy? I want Sam to meet her.”
“Who?”
“Amanda is two. She’s Jonas’s adopted sister.”
“Wait a minute. Your, uh, real mother adopted a baby girl, before she died?”
“That’s right. And now Jonas and Emma are raising her.”
“So Sam will have an aunt who is two?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yes. He will.”
“Well, what can I say? Sam just has to meet his Aunt Mandy.”
“Are you telling me yes to a week in L.A.?”
“I sure am.”
“And then Hawaii?”
“Why not?”
“Or maybe I’ll just wait. Keep it open-ended. We can decide what we want to do next after we get to L.A.”
“That’s fine.”
“Okay, then.” He stepped back from her door, touched his temple in a goodbye salute and headed for his own car.
* * *
Joleen returned to her mother’s at eight-thirty the next morning. Camilla had agreed to watch Sam for a couple of hours. Joleen planned to run a few errands without the distractions a toddler presented before she opened the salon at nine-thirty. When she came to work herself, Camilla would take Sam to Dotty next door.
Camilla was never an early riser by choice. Usually, Joleen had to shake her awake and stick a cup of coffee under her nose any time she had babysitting duty before ten or so.
But that morning Joleen walked into the kitchen with Sam in her arms and found Camilla sitting in the breakfast nook, her coffee already in front of her, wide-awake and fully dressed.
Joleen started at the sight. “Mama. You’re up.”
“Yes, I am, baby,” said Camilla in a determined tone.
Sam put both hands on Joleen’s shoulder and gave a push. “Dow, Mama. Pway.”
Joleen bent to let him to the floor. He toddled off toward the living room where Camilla kept a big bin of toys just for him.
“Has Niki already left for school?”
Camilla nodded, picked up her coffee and took a delicate sip.
“Uncle Hubert and everyone finally go home?”
“Yes, they did.”
Joleen wondered why it felt as if something wasn’t right. “Everything okay, Mama?”
Camilla answered by lifting a shoulder in a shrug.
“Well,” Joleen said brightly. “Since you are up and about, I might as well get goin’. When’s your first appointment?”
“I have got a facial and cosmetic consultation at eleven.” Camilla didn’t do hair anymore. She specialized in facial care—everything from herbal masks to makeovers. A couple of years ago she’d brought in a pricey new line of products, which she used and promoted exclusively. The line was a big success, mostly because Camilla had the knack for exploiting and enhancing the natural beauty of each of her clients.
“Okay, then.” Joleen started for the front door. “I’ll see you at eleven.”
“Baby.” Her mother’s voice was flat.
Joleen turned. “What is the matter, Mama?”
“Have some coffee.”
“I really want to get—”
“I know you do. You always do. But whatever it is can wait. We need to talk.”
“Mama, can’t we talk a little later? I’ve got to be at the shop in an hour and before that I want to—”
“Don’t argue with me, now. Get yourself some coffee and sit down here with me.”
“Mama, I have got to get goin’.”
Her mother just looked at her.
