The Manning Grooms

Page 51

“A number of things, but mainly I’d…” He hesitated as Summer made her way down the stairs. Her hair was mussed, her eyes soft and glowing.
“Ralph, this is my wife, Summer,” James said proudly, joining her. He slipped his arm around her shoulders.
“Hello, Summer,” Ralph said stiffly.
“Hello, Ralph.”
“When did you get here?”
“Last week. Would you two like some coffee? I’ll make a pot. James, take your friend into the den, why don’t you, and I’ll bring everything in there.”
James didn’t want his wife waiting on him, but something about the way she spoke told him this wasn’t the time to argue. That was when he saw her skirt draped on a chair, and her jacket on the floor.
“This way, Ralph,” he said, ushering the other man into the den.
He looked over his shoulder and saw Summer delicately scoop up various items of clothing, then hurry into the kitchen.
“Something amuses you?”
James cleared his throat. “Not really.”
“First of all, James, I have to question your judgment. When you told me you married a showgirl—”
“Summer’s an actress.”
Ralph ignored that. “As I was saying, your judgment appears to be questionable.”
This was a serious accusation, considering that James was running for a position on the superior court.
Ralph’s lips were pinched. “It worries me that you’d marry some woman you barely know on the spur of the moment.”
“Love sometimes happens like that.”
“Perhaps,” Ralph muttered. “Personally I wouldn’t know, but James, how much younger is she?”
“Not as much as you think. Nine years.”
“She’s unsuitable!”
“For whom? You? Listen, Ralph, I asked you to manage my campaign, not run my life. I married Summer, and she’s going to have my child.”
“The girl’s pregnant, as well?”
“Yes, the baby’s due September twenty-third.”
Ralph’s lips went white with disapproval. “Could she have chosen a more inconvenient date?”
“I don’t think it really matters.”
“That’s the primary!”
“I’m well aware of it.”
“Good grief, James.” Ralph shook his head. “This won’t do. It just won’t. Once people learn what you’ve done, they’ll assume you were obligated to marry the girl. The last thing we need now is to have your morals questioned.”
“Ralph, you’re overreacting.”
“I can’t believe you brought her here, after everything I said.”
James gritted his teeth. “She’s my wife.”
Ralph paced back and forth for a moment or two. “I don’t feel I have any choice,” he said with finality.
“Choice about what?”
“I’m resigning as your manager.”
Summer appeared just then, carrying a tray. “Coffee, anyone?”
Ten
Summer settled easily into life with James. She adored her husband and treasured each moment that they were together.
Her days quickly began to follow a routine of sorts. She rose early and, because she was feeling better, resumed her regular workout, which included a two-mile run first thing in the morning.
James insisted on running with her, although he made it clear he didn’t like traipsing through dark streets at dawn’s early light. But he wasn’t comfortable with her running alone, so he joined her, protesting every step of the way.
James was naturally athletic, and Summer didn’t think anyone was more surprised than he was by how enjoyable he started to find it. After their run, they showered together. Thankfully James’s hot-water tank was larger than the meager one back in her Orange County apartment.
This was both good and bad. The negative was when James, a stickler for punctuality, got to court late two mornings in a row.
“You shower first,” he told her after their Monday-morning run.
“Not together?” she asked, disappointed.
“I can’t be late this morning.”
“We’ll behave,” she promised.
James snickered. “I can’t behave with you, Summer. You tempt me too much.”
“All right, but you shower first, and I’ll get us breakfast.”
Ten minutes later, he walked into the kitchen, where Summer was pouring two glasses of orange juice. He wore his dark business suit and carried his briefcase, ready for his workday.
“What are your plans?” he asked, downing the juice as he stood by the table. He sat down to eat his bagel and cream cheese and picked up the paper.
“I’m going to send Julie a long e-mail. Then I thought I’d stop in at the library and volunteer to read during storytime.”
“Good idea,” he said, scanning the paper.
Summer knew reading the paper was part of his morning ritual, which he didn’t have as much time for since her arrival. She drank the last of her juice and kissed his cheek.
“I’m going upstairs for my shower,” she told him.
“All right. Have a good day.”
“I will. Oh, what time will you be home tonight?” she asked.
“Six or so,” he mumbled absently and turned the front page.
Summer hesitated. His schedule had changed. Rarely did he get home before eight the first week after she’d moved in. It seemed that every night there was someone to meet, some campaign supporter to talk to, some plan to outline—all to do with the September primary, even though it was still months away.
In the past week James had come directly home from the courthouse. Not that she was complaining, but she couldn’t help wondering.
“What about your campaign?” she asked.
“Everything’s under control,” was all he said.
Summer wondered.
All at once James looked up, startled, as if he’d just remembered something. “What day’s your ultrasound?”
“Thursday of next week. Don’t look so worried. You don’t need to be there.”
“I want to be there,” he stated emphatically. “Our baby’s first picture. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, I’m curious to find out if we’re going to have a son or daughter.”
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “I don’t want to know.”
“I won’t,” he said, chuckling. He reached out to stroke her abdomen. “I can’t believe how much I love this little one, and he isn’t even born yet.”
“He?” she asked, hands on her hips in mock offense.
“A daughter would suit me just fine. Actually Dad’s hoping for a granddaughter. It’s been a long time since there’s been a little girl in the family.”
Summer pressed her hand over her husband’s. She’d never been this happy. It frightened her sometimes. Experience had taught her that happiness almost always came with a price.
Walter joined them for dinner Wednesday evening. From the moment she’d met him, Summer had liked her father-in-law.
“Did you know Summer could cook this well when you married her?” Walter asked when they’d finished eating.
She’d found a recipe for a chicken casserole on the Internet and served it with homemade dinner rolls and fresh asparagus, with a fresh fruit salad made of seedless grapes and strawberries. For dessert she picked up a lemon torte at the local bakery.
“Summer’s full of surprises,” James told his father. His eyes briefly met hers.
“What he’s trying to say is no one knew how fertile I was, either.”
“That’s the best surprise yet,” Walter said. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin in a blatant effort to hide a smile.
“It certainly is,” James put in.
Walter studied her. “How are you feeling these days?”
“Wonderful.”
“What’s the doctor have to say?”
“That I’m in excellent health. The baby’s growing by leaps and bounds. I haven’t felt him move yet, but—”
“Him?” James and Walter chimed in simultaneously.
“Or her,” she retorted, smiling. She stood and started to clear the table.
“Let me do that,” James insisted.
“I’m not helpless, you know,” Walter added.
Both men leapt from their chairs.
“Go have your coffee,” Summer told them. “It’ll only take me a few minutes to deal with the dishes.”
Walter shrugged, then looked at his son. “There are a few things I need to discuss with James,” he said.
“Then off with you.” She shooed them out of the kitchen.
James poured two cups of coffee and took them into the living room. He paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “You’re sure?”
“James, honestly! Go talk to your father.”
Although she didn’t know Walter well, she sensed that something was on his mind. Throughout the meal she’d noticed the way he watched his son. James was acting odd, too.
Walter wanted to discuss the campaign, but every time he’d introduced the subject, James expertly changed it. He did it cleverly, but Walter had noticed, and after a while Summer had, too.
She ran tap water to rinse off the dinner plates before putting them in the dishwasher, and when she turned off the faucet she heard the end of James’s comment.
“…Summer doesn’t know.”
She hesitated. Apparently the two men didn’t realize how well their voices carried. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it did seem only fair to listen, since she was the topic of conversation.
“What do you plan to do about it?” his father asked.
It took James a long time to answer. “I haven’t decided.”
“Have you tried reasoning with him?”
“No,” James answered bitterly. “The man said he has doubts about my judgment. He’s insulted me, insulted my wife. I don’t need Southworth if he’s got an attitude like that.”
“But you will need a campaign manager.”
“Yes,” James admitted reluctantly.
So that was what this was about. Summer leaned against the kitchen counter and closed her eyes. Ralph had resigned, and from the evidence she’d seen, James had, too. Resigned himself to losing, even before the election. It didn’t sound like him.
“What’s the problem?” Walter asked as if reading Summer’s mind.
James lowered his voice substantially, and Summer had to strain to hear him. “He disapproves of Summer.”
“What?” Walter had no such compunction about keeping quiet. “The man’s crazy!”
“I’ve made a series of mistakes,” James said.
“Mistakes?”
“With Summer.”
The world collapsed, like a house falling in on itself. Summer struggled toward a chair and literally fell into it.
“I should never have married her the way I did,” James elaborated. “I cheated her out of the wedding she deserved. I don’t know if her mother’s forgiven me yet. The last I heard, her family’s planning a reception in November. By then the baby will be here and, well, it seems a little after the fact.”