Free Novel Read

White Lace and Promises Page 12


  “Muffie!” Charlotte exclaimed, her bright eyes shining with genuine pleasure. “What a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were in town.”

  Glenn joined Maggie and draped his arm around her shoulders as he boldly met his parents’ gaze. To be honest, he had been dreading this confrontation himself. His parents would be pleased for him and Maggie, and would do their best to hide their shock. But his father was bound to say something about Angie when they had a private moment. He might even suspect that Glenn had married on the rebound. He hadn’t. Glenn tried not to think of Angie and ignored the nip of emotional pain associated with her name. His parents had loved her and encouraged him to marry her. Their disappointment had been keen when he told them she’d married Simon.

  “Are you visiting from California?” Charlotte asked with a faint tinge of longing. “I do miss that old neighborhood. If we had a hundred years, we’d never find any better place to raise our family.” Taking Maggie by the elbow, she led her into the house. “What’s the matter with us, standing on the porch and talking when there’re plenty of comfortable chairs inside?”

  Maggie tossed a pleading glance over her shoulder to Glenn, hoping he wouldn’t leave the explaining to her.

  The screen door closed with a bang as they entered the house. The small living room managed to hold a recliner, a sofa, and an overstuffed chair and ottoman. In addition, a rocking chair sat in one corner. The fireplace mantel was lined with pictures of the three sons and the grandchildren.

  “Mom, Dad,” Glenn began, his expression sober as he met their curious faces. His arm slipped around Maggie as he stood stiffly at her side. He didn’t know any better way to say it than right out. “Maggie is my wife. We’ve been married nearly two weeks.”

  “Married? Two weeks?” Charlotte echoed in a stunned whisper.

  Mel Lambert recovered quickly and reached across the room to pump Glenn’s hand. “Congratulations, son.” Cupping Maggie’s shoulders, he gently kissed her cheek. “Welcome to the family, Muffie.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice was both weak and weary. This was worse than she’d thought. Glenn’s mother stood with a hand pressed over her heart and an absurd look of shock written across her face, which she was trying desperately to disguise.

  “You two … are married,” Charlotte whispered, apparently having recovered. “This is wonderful news. Mel, you open that bottle of wine we’ve been saving all these years and I’ll get the goblets.” Within seconds, they had both disappeared.

  Glenn took Maggie’s hand and led her to the sofa, where they both sat. “See, I told you it wouldn’t be so bad.” His hand squeezed hers and his eyes smiled confidently into hers. He smoothed a strand of hair from her temple with his forefinger in a light caress.

  “How can you say that?” she hissed under her breath. “Your mother nearly fainted.” To further her unease, she could hear hushed whispers coming from the kitchen. The barely audible word rebound heightened the embarrassed flush in Maggie’s red cheeks. She pretended not to hear, as did Glenn.

  Glenn’s handsome face broke into a scowl. It was a mistake not to have said something to his parents earlier. His better judgment had prompted him to tell them. But he had made such an issue of the necessity of Maggie and him confronting them together that he couldn’t very well change plans. Informing his parents of their marriage had been what it took to get Maggie to join him in Charleston, and he would never regret that.

  Mel and Charlotte reappeared simultaneously. Charlotte carried four shining crystal goblets on a silver tray, and Mel had a wine bottle and corkscrew in one hand.

  “Before leaving California,” Mel explained as he pulled open the corkscrew, “Charlotte and I took a drive through the Napa Valley and bought some of the finest wines available. That was thirteen years ago now, and we only open those bottles on the most special occasions.”

  “Let me see, the last time we opened our California wine was …” Charlotte paused, and a network of fine lines knitted her face as she concentrated.

  Glenn tensed, and his hand squeezed Maggie’s so tightly that she almost yelped at the unexpected pain. Gradually, he relaxed his punishing grip, and Maggie realized that the last special occasion in the Lambert family had been shared with Angie and Glenn.

  “Wasn’t it when Erica was born?” Mel inserted hastily.

  “No, no,” Charlotte dismissed the suggestion with an impatient wave of her hand. “It was more recent than that … I think it was …” Flustered, she swallowed and reached for a wineglass to hide her discomfort. “I do believe you’re right, dear, it was when Erica was born. It just seems more recent is all.”

  The tension left Glenn, and even Maggie breathed easier. Mel finished opening the bottle and nimbly filled the four goblets. Handing Maggie and Glenn their wineglasses, he proposed a toast. “To many years of genuine wedded happiness.”

  “Many years,” Charlotte echoed.

  Later, Maggie helped Charlotte set the table, carrying out the serving dishes while Glenn and his father chatted companionably in the living room. At dinner, the announcement that Glenn would be moving to San Francisco was met with a strained moment of disappointment.

  “We’ll miss you, son” was all that was said.

  Unreasonably, Maggie experienced a flood of guilt. It hadn’t been her idea for him to leave Charleston. She would make her home wherever Glenn wished, but apparently he wanted out of South Carolina.

  “We’ll visit often,” Glenn assured his parents, and, catching Maggie’s eye, he winked. “Especially after the children come.”

  Mel and Charlotte exchanged meaningful glances, making Maggie want to jump up and assure them she wasn’t pregnant … at least she didn’t think so.

  The meal was saved only because everyone felt the need to chat and cover the disconcerting silence. Maggie did her share, catching the Lamberts up on what had been happening with her parents and skimming over Denny’s misfortunes, giving them only a brief outline of his life. In return, Charlotte proudly spoke of each of her three grandchildren, and while they cleared the table the older woman proudly brought out snapshots of the grandkids. Maggie examined each small smiling face, realizing for the first time that these little ones were now her nieces and nephew.

  While Maggie wiped off the table, Charlotte ran sudsy water into the kitchen sink. “There was a time that I despaired of having a daughter,” Charlotte began awkwardly.

  “I remember,” Maggie responded, recalling all the afternoons she had sat with Mrs. Lambert.

  “And now I have three daughters. Each one of my sons have married well. I couldn’t be more pleased with the daughters they’ve given me.”

  Maggie’s hand pushed the rag with unnecessary vigor across the tabletop. “Thank you. I realize our marriage must come as a shock to you, but I want you to know, Mrs. Lambert, I love Glenn and I plan to be a good wife to him.”

  The dark eyes softened perceptively. “I can see that, Muffie. No woman can look at a man the way you look at Glenn and not love him.” Hesitantly, she wiped her wet hands on her apron and turned toward Maggie. Her gaze drifted into the living room, and she frowned slightly. “Are you free for lunch tomorrow? I think we should talk.”

  “Yes, I’d enjoy that.”

  Maggie didn’t tell Glenn of her luncheon with his mother until the following morning. She woke with him and put on the coffee while he showered. When he joined her in the kitchen, Maggie had fried bacon and eggs, which was about the limit of her breakfast skills. Learning to cook was something she planned to do soon. Rosa, her housekeeper at the beach house, would gladly teach her. Thoughts of California brought back a mental image of her brother, and Maggie sighed expressively.

  “I’ll need the car again today; do you mind?” Maggie asked Glenn, turning her thoughts from the unhappy subject of Denny.

  Glenn glanced up from the morning paper. “Do you want to do some shopping?”

  “No … I’m meeting your mother for lunch.” With a forced air of
calm, she scooted out the chair across from him. Her hands cupped the coffee mug, absorbing its warmth. She was worried about letting Glenn know she was meeting his mother. “You don’t mind, do you … I mean, about me using the car?”

  “No.” He pushed his half-eaten breakfast aside, darting a concerned look toward Maggie. “I don’t mind.” Great! He thought vehemently. He could only imagine what his mother was going to tell Maggie. If Maggie was going to hear the details of his relationship with Angie, he’d prefer that they came from him, not his mother.

  “Good.” Despite his aloofness, Maggie had the impression that he wasn’t altogether pleased. He didn’t have to be—she was going, and she sensed they both knew what would be the main subject of the luncheon conversation.

  “Would you like to meet me at the health club afterward?” Glenn asked, but his attention didn’t waver from the newspaper. “I try to work out two, sometimes three times a week.”

  It pleased Maggie that he was including her. “Sure, but let me warn you I’m terrible at handball, average at tennis, and a killer on the basketball court.”

  “I’ll reserve a tennis court,” Glenn informed her, a smile curling up one side of his mouth. “And don’t bother about dinner tonight. We’ll eat at the club.”

  The morning passed quickly. Since she was meeting Glenn later, Maggie dressed casually in white linen slacks and a pink silk blouse, checking her appearance several times. All morning, Maggie avoided going near Glenn’s den. She wouldn’t torment herself by looking at the pictures again; stumbling upon them once had been more than enough. For all she knew, Glenn could have tossed them out with the garbage, but Maggie hadn’t the courage to look, fearing that he hadn’t.

  Allowing herself extra time in case she got lost, Maggie left early for her luncheon date with Charlotte. She had some difficulty finding the elder Lamberts’ home, and regretted not having paid closer attention to the route Glenn had taken the night before. As it turned out, when she pulled into the driveway it was precisely noon, their agreed time.

  Charlotte met her at the door and briefly hugged her. “I got to thinking later that I should have met you someplace. You hardly know your way around yet.”

  “It wasn’t any problem,” Maggie fibbed, following the older woman into the kitchen. A quiche was cooling on the countertop, filling the room with the delicious smell of eggs, cheese, and spices.

  “Sit down and I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

  Maggie did as requested, not knowing how to say that she didn’t want to be thought of as company. Charlotte took the chair beside her. “The reason I asked you here today is to apologize for the way I behaved last night.”

  “No, please.” Maggie’s hand rested on her mother-in-law’s forearm. “I understand. Our news must have come as a shock. Glenn and I were wrong not to have told you earlier.”

  “Yes, I’ll admit that keeping it a secret for nearly two weeks was as much of a surprise as the deed.” She lifted the delicate china cup to her mouth and took a sip. Glenn had always been close to his family; for him to have married without letting them know immediately was completely out of character. For that matter, their rushed marriage wasn’t his style, either. Maggie didn’t need to be reminded that Glenn was a thorough person who weighed each decision, studied each circumstance. It was one reason he was such an excellent stockbroker.

  “You have to understand,” Maggie said, wanting to defend him. “We were as surprised as anyone. Glenn arrived for Steve and Janelle’s wedding and everything seemed so right between us that we flew to Reno that night.”

  “The night of the wedding?” Charlotte did a poor job of hiding her astonishment. “Why, he’d only arrived in San Francisco—”

  “Less than twenty-four hours before the wedding.” Maggie confirmed her mother-in-law’s observation. “And we hadn’t seen each other in twelve years. It sounds impulsive and foolish, doesn’t it?” Maggie wouldn’t minimize the circumstances surrounding their marriage.

  “Not that … Glenn’s never done anything impulsive in his life. He knew exactly what he was doing when he married you, Maggie. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  “I don’t. But I know that Glenn was engaged to someone else recently and that he loved her a great deal.”

  Obviously flustered, Charlotte shook her head, her face reddening. “You don’t need to worry any about her.”

  “I have, though,” Maggie confirmed, being frank and honest. “Glenn hasn’t told me much.”

  “He will in time,” Charlotte said confidently. The older woman’s brow was furrowed with unasked questions, and Maggie nearly laughed aloud at how crazy the situation must sound to someone else. Glenn and Maggie had grown up fighting like brother and sister, had moved apart for more than a decade, and on the basis of a few hours they’d decided to get married.

  “I think I always knew there was something special between you and Glenn. He wasn’t too concerned about girls during high school. Sports and his grades took up the majority of his energy. But he was at ease with you. If there was something troubling him, it wasn’t me or his father he discussed it with; instead he talked it over with you. I suppose a few people will be surprised at this sudden marriage, but don’t let that bother you. The two of you are perfect together.”

  “I won’t.” Maggie swallowed, the words nervously tripping over her tongue. “Neither of us came into this marriage the way normal couples do, but we’re both determined to make it work. I’d been hurt, perhaps not as deeply as Glenn, but for the past few years I’ve been lonely and miserable. Glenn’s still … hurting, but I’ve staked our future together on the conviction that time will heal those wounds.”

  “I’m pleased he told you about Angie.” The look of relief relaxed Charlotte’s strong face.

  “Only a little. He loved her very much, didn’t he?” Just saying the words hurt, but she successfully disguised a grimace.

  “I won’t deny it. Glenn did love her,” Charlotte answered, then added to qualify her statement, “more than she deserved.”

  Maggie had guessed as much already. When Glenn committed himself to someone or something there would never be any doubts. He had loved her, but by his own words, he had no intention of pining away the rest of his life because she married another man. With their wedding vows, Glenn had pledged himself to Maggie. At moments like these and the one yesterday when she discovered the photos, this knowledge of his determination was the only thing that kept her from drowning in frustration.

  “I think I always knew that Angie wasn’t the right woman for Glenn. Something in my mother’s heart told me things were wrong for them. However, it wasn’t my place to intrude in his life. He seemed to love her so much.”

  This time Maggie was unable to hide the pain of Charlotte’s words. She felt the blood drain from her face and lowered her eyes, not wanting her mother-in-law to know how tender her heart was.

  “Oh dear, I’ve said the wrong thing again. Forgive me.” Shaking her head as if silently scolding herself, Mrs. Lambert added, “That came out all wrong. He was happy, yes, but that happiness wouldn’t have lasted and I suspect that even Glenn knew that.” Charlotte stood and brought the quiche to the table along with two place settings.

  “Please continue,” Maggie urged, needing to know everything about the situation she had married into.

  Seeming to understand Maggie’s curiosity, Charlotte rejoined her at the kitchen table. “Glenn cared enough for Angie to wait a year for her to decide she’d marry him. I’ve never seen Glenn so happy as the night she agreed to be his wife. We’d met Angie, of course, several times. She has the roundest, darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s an intense girl, quiet, a little withdrawn, exceptionally loyal, and although she’s hurt Glenn terribly, I’m afraid I can’t be angry with her. Ultimately, she made the right decision. It would have been wrong for her to have married Glenn when she was in love with another man.”

  The irony of the situation was more than Maggie could stand. It wa
s wrong for Angie to have married Glenn in those circumstances, yet he had done exactly that when he married her. Apparently, Charlotte didn’t see it that way. For that matter, Maggie was convinced that had she known beforehand, she probably would have married him anyway.

  “And she never did take the ring,” Charlotte finished.

  “The ring?”

  “My mother’s,” the older woman explained. “She willed it to me as part of my inheritance, and when Glenn graduated from college I opted to make it his. It’s a lovely thing, antique with several small diamonds, but of course you’ve seen it.”

  Maggie thrust an expectant look at her mother-in-law. “No … I haven’t. Glenn’s never mentioned any ring.”

  Charlotte dismissed the information with a light shrug. “I wouldn’t worry about it—you’ll receive it soon enough. As I recall, Glenn had it sized and cleaned when he and Angie decided—” Realizing her mistake, Charlotte lowered her gaze and fidgeted with her coffee cup. “He’s probably having it resized and is keeping it as a surprise for Christmas. As it is I’ve probably ruined that. I apologize, Maggie.”

  The racket slammed against the tennis ball with a vengeance, and Maggie returned it to Glenn’s side of the court with astonishing accuracy. So he had his grandmother’s antique ring that was to go to his wife. She was his wife. Where exactly was the ring? Slam. She returned the tennis ball a second time, stretching as far as she could reach to make the volley. Not expecting her return, Glenn lost the point.

  Maggie’s serve. She aced the first shot, making his return impossible. Fueled by her anger, she had never played a better match. The first two games were hers, and Glenn’s jaw sagged open as he went into mild shock. He rallied in the third, and their fourth and fifth games were heated contests.

  “I don’t recall you ever being this good,” he shouted from the other side of the court.

  She tossed the ball into the air and, fully extending her body, wielded the racket forward, bending her upper torso in half.