“It’s not a lie,” he insisted.
The voice of Mary Baldwin rose up inside him. She would definitely think omitting several pertinent facts constituted a lie. He wondered how well she would take the idea of him marrying her daughter.
Matt dialed the number and held out the phone to Cathie.
“I can’t,” she said, shaking again. “You do it.”
He pulled her against his side, so she wouldn’t run away, as Mary came on the line. It was a good thing one of them could tell not-quite-lies so well. That skill was going to come in handy before they were done. “Hello, Mary.”
“Matt? I hope you have some news for me. How’s my girl?”
Here we go. No time like the present. “She’s fine, but she’s going to be my girl. I finally talked her into marrying me.”
No lie there. It had taken a great deal of talking to convince her.
“What?”
“You heard me. She’s going to marry me.”
There were shrieks from the other end of the phone, then tears, then laugher. He’d forgotten how loud the Baldwins could be when they were happy. Before long, Cathie’s parents were both on the line. They didn’t offer a single objection to entrusting their only daughter to Matt, much to his surprise. They welcomed him warmly back into the family, claiming that in their eyes, he’d always been one of them. They’d just make it official now.
“Matt, I need a moment alone on the phone with my little girl, if you don’t mind,” Mary said. “Especially if we’re going to pull off a wedding in three weeks!”
Matt handed over the phone. Cathie pulled her knees to her chest and the phone to her ear.
“Yes,” she said. “If Daddy performs the service, Brett can walk me down the aisle… I love Grandma’s wedding dress. It’s perfect… Whatever decorations are put up for Christmas at the church will be fine. It’s one less thing to worry about… No, just a small thing at home afterward. We just want everyone there.”
She was doing fine. She and Mary would have to work so hard to pull off the wedding so quickly, Mary would hardly have time to ask questions.
And then he heard Mary’s voice say, “You love him, don’t you?”
Oh, hell.
The whole plan would fall apart. Cathie wouldn’t lie about a thing like that.
It got quiet for a minute. He wished he’d taken more time to convince her this was the right thing to do and that it was no big deal. Hell, the house was so big and he worked such crazy hours, he’d hardly ever see her and the baby. And his debt to the Baldwins would be paid.
Cathie looked up at him like he was the only solid thing in her world at the moment. She put a hand to her still-flat stomach, and he held his breath, waiting to hear what she’d say. If she’d just think of the promises he’d made her. He’d meant every one of them. He would be here for her and her baby, no matter what. They could make this work.
You love him, don’t you?
“I do,” Cathie whispered.
Matt nodded, telling her with his eyes that it was the right thing to do, and then he could breathe again, hadn’t even been aware that he’d stopped. Life was so strange sometimes.
A moment later, the conversation was over. Matt took the phone from Cathie’s trembling hand and put it back on the table at his side, then faced Cathie again. “You okay?”
“My mother asked me if I loved you, and I told her that I do. For what you’re doing,” she rushed on breathlessly. “For me and the baby. I do love you.”
“I know.”
He understood exactly what she meant, but found himself remembering the last time he’d heard those words. They’d come from her then, too. She’d been sixteen and mad as hell.
I love you, Matt.
He’d thrown it back in her face, as if the words hadn’t meant a thing to him, as if she didn’t, either. She’d been wrong, of course. Not that it was so surprising she might think she loved him. She loved so many people. Everyone. Nearly everything. She was extravagant with it, as if there was an abundance of it inside of her, and it was nothing to add one more person to the list of those she loved.
It seemed to come so easily to her, too. Love. It was one of the things about her that had fascinated the crazy, half-wild boy he used to be.
He’d always thought she was begging to get hurt, by loving so easily and so generously. Which, no doubt, was what had happened. She’d fallen for some guy who was completely undeserving of her. It still made him furious, just thinking about it.
He wanted to tell her there was nothing to love. That it was all an illusion, bound to do nothing but hurt her even more, if she persisted in believing in it still.
But her words rolled around oddly inside his body, rattling around his brain, floating around in his chest and the pit of his stomach.
Just words.
They’d scared him so much all those years ago, and somehow sounded so good to him now.
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