The Marriage Conspiracy. Christine RimmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
Thornton was a veterinarian. He was also about the calmest, most easygoing person Joleen had ever had the pleasure to meet. “I promise you, Wayne is fine. Waiting patiently, swapping jokes with Bud and Burly.”
“I want to see him.”
“Well, all right, I’ll just—”
“Wait. Stop right there.”
Joleen did as her sister commanded.
“What do you think you’re doing?” DeDe accused. “You know I can’t see him. It would be bad luck.”
Joleen lifted a shoulder in the tiniest of shrugs. Of course, she knew that. But if she’d been the one to say it, her sister would have insisted that Joleen run down-stairs that instant and come right back up with Wayne. Like Niki, DeDe had had some troubled times in the past. She’d settled down a lot in the last couple of years, but she hadn’t gotten rid of her stubborn streak, of a certain contrariness to her nature. Joleen never locked horns with her if she could avoid it. Locking horns with DeDe almost never paid off.
DeDe sighed. “I’m goin’ nuts.” She whirled in a rustle of satin, flounced to their mother’s big four-poster bed, turned and plunked herself down on the edge of it. “Where is Dekker?”
Joleen approached and sat beside her sister. She took DeDe’s hand. “Honey…”
DeDe yanked her hand away. “Don’t say it. He promised he would be here and we are gonna wait for him.”
“Honey, we have waited. For over an hour. You have to think of your guests. They are dyin’ out there.”
“Well, I can’t help it. It wouldn’t be right to start without Dekker. You know that it wouldn’t.”
Joleen had no quick comeback for that.
The problem was, in her heart, Joleen agreed with DeDe. It wouldn’t be right to start without Dekker.
Dekker Smith might not be blood to them, but he truly was family. His mama, Lorraine, had been their mama’s best friend. Lorraine was gone now, and Dekker hadn’t lived next door since he graduated high school, but he looked out for them all, especially in the past ten years, since Joleen’s father had died.
Dekker spent his holidays with them. He had been the one who taught both Joleen and DeDe how to drive. He could always be counted upon to show up with his toolbox when something needed fixing—not to mention to stand up for any female named Tilly any time things got rough. Two years ago, when DeDe had her little run-in with the law, Dekker had gone with Joleen to the police station to bail her out and he’d made sure she got the best lawyer around. Same thing with Niki, when she’d been in trouble last year. Dekker was right there, to help out.
He was family in the deepest way, and of course DeDe wanted him there to see her married.
But they couldn’t wait all day to start the wedding march. “DeDe, I think we are just going to have to go ahead.”
“But we can’t go ahead,” DeDe cried.
“Yes, we can. And you know that Dekker will understand. You know that he—”
“I won’t understand. Don’t you get it? I want Dekker to give me away.”
“Well, I know you do, but he is not here.”
DeDe glared. “Oh, you, Joly. Always so logical. I cannot stand to hear logic at a time like this.”
“Well, I am so sorry to be reasonable when you would rather not, but—”
DeDe cut her off by bursting into tears.
Joleen closed her eyes and silently counted to ten.
When she opened them again, she saw her mother, Camilla, hovering in the doorway to the hall. “What is it, baby? What has happened here?”
“Joly says we have to go ahead.” DeDe sobbed. “She says we can’t wait for Dekker.”
“Oh, now, honey…”
“I want him here, Mama. I want him to give me away.”
“Yes, and we all understand that.”
“It won’t seem right if he isn’t here.”
“Oh, I know, I know…”
DeDe let out a frustrated wail. The cry brought Camilla out of the doorway. She rushed across the room, slender arms outstretched. Joleen slid to the side and got out of the way. DeDe stood. Camilla gathered her close.
“Aw, baby,” Camilla cooed. “Now, you know you are going to ruin your face, carrying on like this. Now, you just settle down….”
But DeDe was not settling down.
And Camilla had started crying, too. Tears filled her huge brown eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Sobs constricted her long white throat. Joleen backed away a few more steps, as her middle sister and her mother held on to each other and wailed.
“Honey, honey,” Camilla cried. “Don’t you worry. It’s okay. We will wait. We will wait until Dekker gets here. We’ll wait forever, if we have to. Till the end of time, I swear it to you….”
There was a gasp from the doorway. Joleen looked over.
Niki. She had Sam perched on her hip—and her hazel eyes were already brimming. Sam had a teething biscuit stuck in his mouth. He sucked it steadily, not much disturbed by all the excitement on the other side of the room.
But then, why should he be disturbed? His grandmother and his aunts never hid their emotions. He was used to lots of crying and carrying on.
“Mama?” Niki gulped back a sob. “DeDe? What is going on?”
Her mother and middle sister only cried all the harder. Niki’s face started to crumple.
Joleen reached Niki’s side in three quick steps. “Before you start,” she warned, “give me my baby.”
“Here.” Niki held Sam out. He reached for Joleen automatically, gurgling, “Mama!” And then his biscuit-gooey little hands encircled her neck, his soft weight was on her arm and his sweet, slightly dusty smell filled her senses.
With a hard sob, Niki flew across the room. Camilla and DeDe enfolded her into their embrace. The three hugged and bawled, their arms around each other, a sniffling, tear-streaked huddle of satin and lace.
Joleen stood a few feet from the door, resolutely calm as always, holding her baby and watching her mother and sisters wail and moan, wondering how in the world she would manage to calm them all now.
“What is this, a wedding—or a wake?”
Joleen turned toward the sound of that deep, wry voice. It was Dekker, in the doorway. He had made it, after all.
Chapter 2
Relief washed through Joleen—and a sweet rush of affection, as well. She should probably be good and angry with him for being so late, but how could she be angry when she was so glad to see him? And he looked so handsome in the nice lightweight suit they had picked out together just for this occasion.
He also looked…easy within himself and relaxed. Something good must have happened out there in Los Angeles.
“You’re late,” she muttered.
He shrugged. “Air travel is not what it used to be. I sat at O’Hare for ten hours.”
“Your cell phone—”
“Needs recharging. Sorry. I tried to call you.”
“At my house?”
“Right. From a pay phone, this morning around eight.”
“I left at seven-thirty.”
“And I also called here. Twice. Got a busy signal both times.”