Joanna clenched her fists and turned her attention away. “You’re right, I should have let you know sooner. But that’s irrelevant now. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t know anything about…what happened at work?”
Joanna straightened up and met his gaze directly. “No.”
“She does know you switched jobs?”
“Yes. She thinks it’s because the company enforces a strong policy against office relationships.”
“It does have that policy.”
“You think I don’t know that, Matt?” They’d ignored that policy, which was the whole reason her entire future had nearly gone down the drain. Yes, she knew well enough about it.
“But she knows nothing else?” Matt asked.
“No. And we’re not telling her. She thinks we’re dating—and now she wants us to get married. That’s all that matters now.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” she demanded. “She’s old and weak. She thinks she’s dying. She may be right. She’s so happy thinking we are an item. She can be old-fashioned at times, but she worries about me and she thinks I’m safe with you.”
“I see.”
“Of course we’re not getting married, but we can’t ruin her illusion of us as a happy couple.” Her mind was made up. They would keep up the pretence until Grandma was better. Or…until there was no longer a need for it. “Not now. You can’t tell her we broke up.”
He opened his mouth.
“Matt, say ‘I see’ one more time, and there will be no more coffee for you in this kitchen.”
He looked at her in surprise, and then he smiled. His smile shot a flash of almost forgotten heat through her and she looked down into her coffee mug, trying to break the spell.
The doorbell rang, and she was grateful to escape. At the door, her grandmother’s three bridge partners clustered on the top steps, and somehow the three five-foot-tall ladies managed between them to dwarf the tall elderly gentleman standing in the middle, looking rather shell-shocked.
“Anna, Rose, Nora,” she acknowledged and stepped back. The old ladies filtered in, kissing her cheeks and chattering in a chorus. They visited her grandmother almost daily, and the laughter that filled the house during their visit, was probably better for Esther than all the doctors and medications in the world.
“Harlan Carlson,” the man said, holding out a hand and smiling. He looked very distinguished with his silver hair and a neatly trimmed white beard, but not familiar. “I’m an old friend of your grandmother’s. You must be little Joanna. We met many years ago, but you were very young, so you probably don’t remember me.”
Jo tried to place him, but with no luck. Her grandmother had so many old friends. “I’m afraid I don’t,” she replied apologetically, looking at the three ladies who were busy creating a mountain of outer garments after having piled their shopping bags in an equally impressive pile. Apparently they’d arrived directly from an extended visit to the mall. “But it’s always a pleasure to meet my grandmother’s friends, Mr. Carlson. Are you a new addition to the bridge club?”
His face creased in a hearty chuckle. “I don’t think so. Esther called me a few days ago—I’m very much looking forward to seeing her again.”
Joanna nodded, and beckoned him to follow as the three ladies filtered in a row toward Esther’s room, talking loudly amongst themselves. Matt came out of the kitchen, shook hands with Mr. Carlson and was affectionately attacked by the three ladies. They followed the horde to her grandmother’s room.
Esther was sitting up, almost bouncing at the sight of her friends filling the room. The air resounded with smacking kisses and fuss as everybody got comfortable at their usual stations. Mr. Carlson waited while the ladies got their greetings over with, and Matt leaned against the windowsill, his expression giving away nothing.
“Grandma?” Jo stood up on tiptoe and waved a hand to get her grandmother’s attention over the crowd at her bedside. “Harlan Carlson is here to see you.” She beckoned Mr. Carlson to step closer.
Grandma smiled and waved at him. “Harlan! It’s been forever, hasn’t it? I see your hair is turning white, just like mine.”
“I’ll bring up some coffee for your friends, Grandma,” Jo said, and turned to leave the room.
“No—wait a minute, Joanna. It’s because of you that I got Harlan here.”
Jo turned around and squirmed between Nora and Rose to her grandmother’s bedside, waiting for her grandmother’s explanation. She was pretty sure this had something to do with dying. Was Mr. Carlson here to draw up a will, perhaps? She suppressed a sigh and a twinge of fear. “What do you mean?”
Grandma looked up at her, pleading in her eyes. “Harlan is a retired judge. He can marry you and Matt.”
“What?”
“Please, Jo. Get married. Now. I know Matt will agree if you do. Harlan can marry you now.” She reached up and stroked Jo’s cheek. “You could be Mrs. Bentley in one hour, love.”
Jo felt her insides heave. The silence in the room was deafening; even the bridge trio held their breath. “Grandma—you called for a judge, so he could marry me and Matt—here and now?”
An almost imperceptible nod, the look on the lined face a blend of guile and hope. “Harlan retired a while ago, but he can still perform weddings. Of course we don’t have the paperwork, but…he’s an old friend—I called in a favor.”
Mr. Carlson—Justice Carlson—cleared his throat. “This is very unusual,” he said, looking between her and Matt. “I probably wouldn’t be doing this for anyone except Esther, but I understand…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Well, there is considerable urgency. You don’t have a license, so you have to realize this is not a legal ceremony. You’ll have to do this again officially, with the proper paperwork in order.”
Jo felt tears teeter at the corner of her eye. She blinked them away. This was funny, she told herself. She’d tell her friends about this next week, and they’d have a good laugh. “Grandma—I can’t believe this! What happened to ‘sleep on it’?”
“I was speaking rhetorically. You’ve had time to think about it.”
“Grandma, please. Don’t do this. It’s not right. Don’t try to control our lives. Don’t do this to us. I don’t want to disappoint you, and neither does Matt, but we can’t do something this drastic just because you want us to. Please, don’t do this.”
Esther squeezed her hands together. “Forgive me, Joanna, but I must meddle. It means so much to me to see you marry Matt before I leave.”
“Justice Carlson just said, it wouldn’t be legal, Grandma.”
The old lady waved away her objections. “Harlan can marry you now—to me that’ll be just as valid as any other wedding. Then you’ll just do it all over again with the paperwork and rice later. The important thing is that you make the commitment to each other, that you say the vows. That’s all that matters. There’s time enough for the petty details later. Time that I don’t have,” she added with a sigh.
“But it’s not…”
Grandma didn’t let her interrupt. “I know. You want a proposal from your man, not an old lady ordering him to marry you. But things are urgent now.” She lifted a finger at Joanna and managed to wave it around without moving her hand. “I bet you would rather that I boss you around now than that I haunt you in the afterlife, wouldn’t you?” She grinned, a lively spark in her eyes that belied a woman on her deathbed. “I haven’t seen your