Society Wives: Secret Lives: The Rags-To-Riches Wife

“How does he or she feel about chocolate fudge?” he asked and flipped on his turning signal.

“I don’t know. Why?” she asked, sitting up straighter as he took the next exit.

“There’s this old-fashioned ice cream parlor not far from here. I thought we’d stop and let our little one decide if he or she is a butter pecan fan like Mom or a chocolate fudge fan like Dad.”

It turned out the baby liked butter pecan mixed with chocolate fudge. As far as he was concerned, the mixture was awful, Jack concluded as he turned onto the street leading to Lily’s apartment. Lily, on the other hand, had found the combination delicious. And he had felt as though he’d made it over a hurdle because she had been more relaxed with him. So he’d picked up a pint of each to take back to her apartment in the hope that the mood would continue. Once again, he thought of the ring in his pocket.

After pulling his car up to the curb of her apartment building and shutting off the engine, he went around and opened Lily’s door. He offered her his hand.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“No problem,” he told her as he shut her door. He retrieved the bag with the ice cream from the floor of the back seat.

“I’ll take that,” she said. “You don’t have to come upstairs with me.”

Ignoring her, Jack shut the door. “My mother and Grandmother Cartwright taught me always to show a lady to her door.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to argue, but then she decided against it, evidently realizing he had no intention of being swayed. Opening the door to the brick four-plex, she preceded him into the building and up the stairs to the second floor. He’d already expressed his concern about her climbing the stairs and she’d assured him the exercise was good for her and the baby.

When he reached the door of her apartment, she unlocked it, then turned to face him. “Thank you, Jack. I really did like your family.”

“And they liked you,” he told her because it was true.

“Well, then I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

He held up the bag of ice cream. “I think I’d better put this in the freezer.”

“That’s okay, I can take that—“

“Lily, I want to come inside.” She had yet to invite him inside her apartment, meeting him at the door each time he’d arrived. He knew she was uncomfortable. He didn’t blame her. But at some point, they had to get past the awkwardness.

“I really am tired, Jack.”

“I promise not to stay long.” When she hesitated, he told her, “This time next week, you’re going to be my wife.” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I’m not expecting anything from you. I just think it would be a good idea if we at least reached a point where we don’t feel uncomfortable with one another before we get married.”

“I know you’re right,” she said. “But it’s not like we’re strangers.”

“No, we’re not. We were drawn to each other for a reason that night and we made a child together. If this marriage is going to work, we’re going to have to learn to trust one another.”

“I do trust you, Jack. I’m just worried about whether or not we’re doing the right thing by getting married.”

“We are,” he assured her and held up the bag of ice cream. “But if I don’t get this in the freezer soon, we’re going to have a whole other set of problems.”

“The kitchen’s right through there,” she told him. “Excuse me for a minute.”

No doubt the bathroom was calling again, he decided. While she was gone, he took the opportunity to study her home. The place was small, smaller than he’d suspected, he realized as he made the short trek to the kitchen and put the ice cream in the freezer. It was neat, clean and colorful. Lily liked bright colors. He hadn’t known that about her. But given the orange print curtains and the dish towels on the counter, the lady surrounded herself with brightness.

She also liked fresh flowers, he noted, spying the arrangement of daisies on the kitchen table and the roses on the coffee table in the living room. Like the kitchen, the living room was small, but bright and cheery. There were lots of homey touches—an afghan on the end of the couch, shelves of books ranging from the latest Sandra Brown thriller to technical books on psychology. There were groupings of candlesticks and books on art and gardening. She liked the Impressionists, he decided, as he checked out two Monet prints. She’d made the place a home.

The only thing that he found missing were photographs. Unlike his and his parents’ homes, there were no photographs scattered about the apartment. There were no snapshots of a young Lily on Santa’s knee. None of her smiling and showing a gap where she’d lost her first tooth. No pictures of a teenaged Lily dressed for the prom. The absence of any family photos told him more about her than anything else he’d learned via background checks and talks with her. It also caused a tightening in his chest for the young Lily who had grown up without the one thing every child deserved—a family. And along with his aching for her, he couldn’t help but feel admiration.

“I’m sorry to take so long,” she said as she returned to the room.

Jack turned at the sound of her voice. “No problem,” he told her and had to keep himself from going to her and taking her in his arms. “I was just checking out your artwork. I see you like Monet.”

“Yes. Degas, too. Someday I’ve promised myself I’m going to make it to Paris and spend a week in the Louvre.”

“You don’t have to wait for someday. We can go after the wedding next week. We are entitled to a honeymoon,” he said and walked over to her. He took her hands in his. “What do you say?”

“I … what about work? We can’t just take off.”

“I’ll clear my schedule and I’m sure you can get some time off from the agency. So, shall I book us some flights?”

“I don’t think so,” she said and tugged her fingers free. She walked across the room. “I wouldn’t be comfortable traveling now … not before the baby comes.”

“Then maybe we’ll go next spring. April in Paris is beautiful. And when it rains, you can smell the chestnut trees. How does that sound?”

“It sounds lovely,” she told him. “Would you like something to drink? I have water, iced tea and soda. I’m afraid I don’t have any wine.”

“Iced tea would be great.” When she disappeared into the kitchen, he slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered the ring box. She’d grown up without family, without having anyone she could rely on but herself. He didn’t ever want her to be alone again. He would be her family, he and their baby.

“Here we go,” she said as she returned to the room carrying a tray with two glasses, a pitcher, a dish of lemons and a bowl with sweetener.

“Here, let me get that,” Jack said, and, taking the tray from her, placed it on the table.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked sugar or sweetener. So I brought both.” She poured them each a glass and handed him his.

Jack took the glass from her and set it down on the table. “Lily, I don’t want tea.”

She paused, set down the other glass.

“Would you come sit for a minute?” he asked and patted the seat next to him on the couch.

She did as he asked. “Is there something wrong? Listen, if you’ve changed your mind about getting married—“

Jack placed his finger over her lips. “I haven’t changed my mind. I wanted to give you this.” He took the ring box from his pocket and opened it. She gasped at the sight of the antique emerald-cut diamond ring set in the platinum band.

Her blue eyes shot up from the ring to his face. “Jack, I told you I didn’t need an engagement ring.”

“I know you did. But this isn’t just any engagement ring. It’s been in my family for nearly two hundred years and it’s said that all the women who’ve worn this ring have enjoyed long, happy marriages.”

“Jack, I can’t—“

“It belonged to my grandmother and has been passed on to the oldest male descendant in each generation. My mother was an only child and I’m her male descendant, so it came to me, to give to my bride. Since you’re going to be my bride, I’d like you to wear it.”

“Jack, I can’t. It’s not right. This is meant to be worn by the woman you lo—“

“It’s meant to be worn by the woman I’ve asked to be my wife. I’m asking you to be my wife, Lily.” He took it from the box and held it out to her. “Will you wear it? For me? For our baby?”