Marriage by Contract

“That won’t give Aunt Pasqualina much time to make her famous wedding cake,” Elena sputtered.

“The nice thing about Aunt Pasqualina’s cakes,” one brother-in-law, Beth thought it was Frank, said, “is that you don’t actually eat them.”

“That’s right,” Nick Santini agreed. “We’re still using the cake from our wedding to prop open the back door.”

After giving her husband a sharp jab in the ribs, Carmelina asked, “What do you mean by as soon as possible?”

Tony glanced at Beth. “A week at the latest.”

A gasp went through the room. “A week!” Elena said. “But, Anthony, we’ve been waiting all our lives to hear you say ‘I do’ in a proper wedding ceremony.”

Beth didn’t like the guilt that flooded her. Trying to soften the family’s disappointment, she said, “In order to adopt Christopher, we must be married as soon as possible.”

Mention of the baby changed everything. The Petrocellis took turns nodding and shaking their heads. “A week!” Rosa said. “That don’a leave us much time.”

“That’s all right, Grandma,” Tony said. “We’re planning to be married by a judge.”

A little girl whined over a bumped knee, and a baby started to cry. The adults took the news even worse. Mouths dropped open, then snapped shut, and chaos erupted all over again. Grandma Rosa muttered in Italian, and Vince and Elena sputtered between themselves. Turning suddenly, Elena said, “Anthony, this is a wedding, not a traffic violation. If you must be married within a week, so be it, but at least do it in front of God and Father Carlos.”

“But, Mama,” Gina insisted, “Father Carlos insists upon a six-month waiting period.”

Elena, whose black hair was streaked with gray, turned to Tony and Beth. Raising her chin at a haughty angle, she said, “You two see to the baby, the license and the blood tests, and leave Father Carlos to me.”

Tony and Beth exchanged a look, then slowly nodded. It seemed there wasn’t much more to say. Tony made noises about leaving soon after. Pulling Beth along behind him, he shouldered a path to the door.

“Antonio, wait!”

The crowd parted to make room for Tony’s grandmother to pass. Rosa peered up at her grandson for a long time, then moved on to the woman at his side. Age might have shrunk her frame, but it hadn’t dulled her intelligence or softened her temperament. A flicker of apprehension shot through Bethany. She knows, she thought to herself. Tony’s grandmother knows that this marriage is all because of Christopher. Only because of Christopher.

“Is there something you wanted to say, Grandma?” Tony asked.

When Rosa nodded, Beth tried to prepare for what was to come.

“I just want to welcome you into our family, Bethany. I’ve seen the way you watched all the little ones here tonight, and I believe you’re goin’ta be a fine mother to the child you and my Antonio plan to adopt, and a fine mother to the babies you’ll birth yourself, too. Even if you are a little thin by Italian standards.”

A lump rose to Beth’s throat, making speech impossible. Carmelina flashed her a wink that spoke volumes and a smile that said even more. “Don’t mind Grandma Rosa. She’s always trying to fatten us up. Honestly, my Nicholas was a thin man when I married him.”

“What do you mean, ‘was’?” Nicholas protested.

Ignoring her brother-in-law, Maria said, “That’s right. When Grandma Rosa tells us we’re just right, we always know it’s time to go on a diet.”

“Yes,” Andreanna quipped. “She and Mama are firm believers in feeding a cold and a fever. Besides, you’ll probably put on a little baby fat when you’re pregnant.”

“All these women think about is making babies,” one of the brothers-in-law admonished.

He dodged the jab from his wife and laughed along with the other men. Tony and Beth left seconds later amid a chorus of “goodbyes.”

Beth only wished it was easier to smile.

Chapter Three

“Is everything all right, Beth?”

She glanced at Tony, relieved to see that he was too busy watching for his family’s arrival to take his eyes from the end of the corridor. It was the third time he’d asked that question in as many days, and the third time she didn’t know what to say. The first time, he’d voiced his concern before pulling out of his parents’ driveway three nights ago. She hadn’t been able to explain the niggling doubt hovering in the back of her mind then, and she couldn’t explain it now. What she needed was a few hours alone to get her thoughts in order, but with the wedding a mere four days away, she hadn’t had two minutes to think, much less a few hours.

The hospital was abuzz with the news of the great Dr. Petrocelli’s imminent fall from bachelorhood. He and Beth had taken their blood tests, applied for the marriage license and spoken with Elena every day. Beth wasn’t sure how the other woman had managed it, but the wedding was set for this coming Saturday at two o’clock.

Although everything else they’d done had been necessary, as far as Beth was concerned, the most important order of business was the appointment they’d kept with the social worker yesterday. Florence Donahue, the caseworker who’d been assigned to Christopher, was fifty-five years old, and since she’d turned forty she had accumulated an extra pound with every passing year. She wore the pinched expression of a woman who was squeezed between the desire to help and the bureaucracy of an imperfect system. If Tony had noticed, he hadn’t let on, charming her right down to the roots of her overpermed brown hair. Beth still smiled every time she thought about the phone call she’d received a few hours ago. According to Mrs. Donahue, the proper forms had been filled out, and barring any new developments, the system was going to place Christopher in Beth and Tony’s care upon his release from the hospital.

The Petrocellis, too eager to wait until then to meet the newest addition to their family, were due to arrive at the hospital, where they could at least see him through the nursery window. Tony was pacing back and forth, as nervous as any expectant father she’d ever seen. He would be wonderful to Christopher, she knew he would, and Christopher would have the added stability and love of a huge extended family.

Telling herself that the misgivings that had been scraping the edges of her mind these past three days were just nerves, she leaned over the baby’s incubator. “Hello, sweet pea. Remember when I told you how much I want to be your mommy? Lo and behold, it looks as if I’m going to get my wish. Do you remember that man over there? He helped bring you into this world, and he’s going to be your daddy.”

Tony stopped pacing and slowly turned around. He took his time looking at Beth, his eyes traveling over every inch of her. She was leaning over the plastic crib, seemingly oblivious to everything except the baby. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, one side fastened high on her head with a black clasp. She was wearing a thin, airy-looking skirt and matching top. Although the color was an understated slate blue, the material clung to her hips and legs in the most enticing way. She probably had no idea how sensuous her voice sounded. No wonder the baby was gazing up at her, mesmerized. She was having a similar effect on him. Tony didn’t know what was happening to him. He only knew he liked it.

“Beth?” he said, catching a movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Hmm?”

“They’re here.”

She came to with a start, her eyes going wide as she looked beyond him at the men and women and children hurrying toward them en masse. With a tilt of her head and the lift of one shoulder, she said, “Yes, they certainly are. Would you like to carry Christopher to the window so they can see him?”

“No,” he said, ignoring the taps on the pane behind him. “I think you should do the honors. You’re a natural with him.”

The smile she gave him nearly buckled his knees, rendering him immobile. That night, more than two-and-a-half months ago, like now, he’d felt it—warmed by her smile, flushed with heat, excited by something as simple as a look.

Beth wrapped Christopher in a white blanket and scooped him into her arms, Tony’s words playing through her mind. You’re a natural with him. She swallowed the lump in her throat, certain she’d never received a higher compliment.

She stood next to Tony in front of the window and held up the baby for all to see. Christopher, with his dark tuft of hair and serious gray eyes, stared unblinking at all the people who were making complete fools of themselves on the other side of the window.

Children were held up for a better look, chubby little fingers pointing, questions asked and answered with ease. Tony’s mother and sisters all wiped tears from their eyes, his father and brothers-in-law grinning and nodding for all they were worth. When everyone had looked their fill, Beth returned Christopher to his bed, and together, she and Tony joined the rest of the family in the hall.

“I can’t believe how much hair he has.”

“He’s an angel.”

“He’s beautiful.”

“He’s a boy. He can’t be beautiful.”

“He can so. And he is.”

“And smart. He knows us already.”

“Oh, but he’s so small. I swear our Dominic was twice that size at birth!”

“Yes, but Dominic was born half grown.”