74 Seaside Avenue Part 28

When Jon finally walked in, it was after eleven. Generally she was in bed by then, and he seemed surprised to find her up. He looked tired; still, he smiled when he saw her.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he murmured.

Without hesitation, Maryellen hurried toward him, slipping into his embrace and hugging him fiercely. "Oh, Jon! I have so much good news. I just couldn't go to bed."

"I heard a rumor that the Harbor Street Gallery might have a buyer. Is that it?"

She nodded. "Will Jefferson is probably going to buy it. He stopped by to talk to me about my views on the current problems and how to resolve them. He seems very knowledgeable."

"That's great."

"I have other news, too."

Jon regarded her with a mildly puzzled expression.

"This has to do with you."

"Me?"

"Yes." She led the way to the living room. He sat down between a laundry basket piled with folded baby clothes and a stack of freshly washed towels. She remained standing. "Do you remember all those weeks I spent living on this sofa?" Although she asked the question, it was unlikely either of them would forget the long months of forced rest she'd had to endure.

"This is a trick question, right?"

"No, it's rhetorical. I spent the first few weeks worrying because there was so little I could do, and you were run ragged."

"Maryellen," he said, reaching for her hands. "That's all in the past."

"Yes, I know, and I promise I'll get to the point in a minute. Just bear with me, okay?"

"Of course."

He looked puzzled but Maryellen needed to tell the whole story and tell it her way.

"Then," she continued, "despite your own preferences, you asked your parents for help."

"Yes, but-"

"Please, let me finish." She didn't mean to cut him off, but she was nearly bursting with what she had to tell him. "I understand how hard that was for you, Jon." He'd done it for her and Katie and the baby, and Maryellen would never forget that or what it had cost him.

"Just a minute," Jon said, "before you go any further with this. I don't want you seeing me as some wonderful hero. In case you've forgotten, I wasn't happy about it."

"I know, and that makes what you did even more admirable." She smiled at him, tears gathering in her eyes. "Anyway, while your family was here, I occupied my time trying to get you an agent."

Jon stared up at her. "How did we move from my parents being here to you finding me an agent?"

"That's how it happened," she said, speaking quickly. "If it hadn't been for your father and Ellen, I wouldn't have been able to spend all those hours on the computer or making all those phones calls."

"Are you saying an agent's interested in me?"

She nodded. "More than interested."

"Who?"

"His name is Marc Albright and he's already made two tentative sales of your photographs."

"Already? What about the terms?"

"It's limited use and, Jon, oh, Jon, the money is fabulous." When she told him the figure, his eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"Limited use?" he asked. "As what?"

"One's being picked up for a print ad for an outdoor clothing franchise and the other's the backdrop for an author's promotional kit, which is being sent to booksellers and distributors."

"Which shots?" he asked, immediately curious, just as Maryellen had been. She had them ready and pulled out the two photographs for his inspection.

Jon glanced at them, then looked up, his eyes filled with shock-as if, only now, had this become real to him.

"Remember how we talked about me being your manager one day?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Well, my beloved husband, that day has arrived."

Jon smiled widely. "That's wonderful, Maryellen." He stood and hugged her, then announced that he needed a shower.

A shower? Jon wanted to go upstairs and take a shower? She'd just delivered the best news of his career and all he could think about was a shower?

Maryellen didn't allow her disappointment to show. She hadn't known Jon all these years for nothing; he needed to process this information in his own way.

When he'd finished his shower, Maryellen was in bed. Drake would wake for his feeding soon. She considered waking him now and getting it over with so she could count on a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, but that wasn't a practice she wanted to start.

The moonlight shone through the uncurtained window. Jon kept the bedside lamp off as he slipped between the sheets. "I did hear you right, didn't I? I have an agent?"

"He's one of the top agents in the country." She smiled. "I did my research, you know."

Jon lifted her hair and dropped soft kisses on her neck.

When he stopped, Maryellen rolled onto her back and discovered him looking down at her, his head propped up on one elbow. "He'd like to talk to you in the morning," she said.

"And you only mention that now?"

She grinned and threw her arms around him. "Are you excited yet?"

"I'm getting there."

"You should be, Jon."

"He likes my work?"

Maryellen wanted to laugh out loud. "He thinks you're brilliant. And you are."

In response, Jon lowered his mouth to hers. Their kisses took on an urgency that matched their happiness, and soon he'd divested Maryellen of her nightgown. When he moved over her, she sighed her welcome and arched up to receive him. They were familiar lovers and clung to each other afterward, their kisses warm and loving.

"When I walked into the house, I thought I'd fall asleep on my feet," Jon told her. "I was that exhausted. Now I'm so excited I don't know if I can sleep."

"Me, too." Maryellen felt like giggling. "I'm dying to tell people. Mom phoned this evening and Rachel, too, and I didn't say a word." Her mother was a nervous wreck over the wedding reception; in fact, Maryellen had never seen her so unnerved by a social event. She'd thought of saying something about Cliff and Will Jefferson, but hadn't. It all seemed too complicated, and she didn't feel she should involve herself or interfere.

"Well, you can tell them now," Jon said sleepily.

Maryellen nodded. As a matter of fact, she intended to let the whole world know.

Cuddling up with her husband, Maryellen murmured, "Rachel and I had a long talk."

Jon made a noncommittal sound, obviously drifting off.

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose her," she said.

"What do you mean?" Jon mumbled.

"She's been seeing this navy guy and he recently got transferred. She really misses him."

"That's nice."

It wasn't, but Maryellen didn't bother to explain, since Jon was more interested in sleeping. "You remember what it's like to be in love, don't you?" she couldn't resist teasing.

"Sure do."

Maryellen could tell he was smiling. "Lots of benefits come along with it." Maryellen kissed his jaw. "I think she might move to California."

"Who?"

"Rachel."

"Oh, yes, your friend..." His response was followed by a soft snore. For the next few minutes, she listened to Jon's deep, even breathing. He worked hard and was on his feet for a long, stressful s.h.i.+ft. But that was about to change; soon his photography would bring in enough to meet their financial obligations.

Contented, Maryellen closed her eyes. She was almost asleep when Drake's hungry cry startled her. Her eyes flew open.

"Okay, okay," she whispered, tossing aside the covers and climbing out of bed. Although she'd begun her new role as Jon's manager, her job right now was that of a mother. Just to make sure she remembered that, Drake squalled again.

Twenty-Nine.

The day of her reception had finally arrived. Preparing for it, trying to get all the details right, had made Grace more nervous than she'd been about either of her weddings. Her first to Dan Sherman, shortly after her high-school graduation, had been a large formal affair. Olivia Jefferson had been her maid of honor, and she'd had three bridesmaids. Her parents had invited a crowd of family and friends, some of whom she'd never even met.

Wearing a traditional white wedding dress had been hypocritical, since Grace was nearly four months pregnant with Maryellen at the time. Her mother, who'd wanted to keep the pregnancy quiet, had insisted, however. Grace had gone along with it, although she suspected that anyone looking at her would guess.

Still, she'd been a happy bride. She'd loved Dan, although in retrospect, she'd known virtually nothing about either love or life. The hard realities would hit soon enough. In an effort to support his wife and child, Dan had enlisted in the army and been sent to Vietnam. The young man who'd left her behind with their unborn child had been forever changed in the jungles of Southeast Asia. The man she'd loved and married had never returned; a very different Dan Sherman had come home instead.

Her second wedding, of course, had been an elopement.

Their sudden marriage had upset everyone for one reason or another. Not surprisingly, perhaps, Olivia had been the most vocal. According to her, best friends should be informed of such plans, regardless of time or circ.u.mstances. Grace had come to regret not letting Olivia and her own family know until after the ceremony. Everyone now seemed convinced that Cliff and Grace needed to celebrate their marriage with family and friends in order to make it official-at least in their eyes. Pastor Flemming had agreed to perform a short ceremony, which would be followed by the reception.

"How do I look?" Cliff asked as he stepped into their bedroom. He was handsome in his tuxedo-and completely miserable. He held his head at an unnatural angle and scowled in her direction. There were only the two of them in the house, since his daughter, Lisa, and her family had already left for the church hall. She planned to help Maryellen and Kelly finish decorating.

"You look like you're going to a funeral," Grace told him truthfully.

That earned her a curt laugh. "I hate these things," he muttered, twisting the black bow tie.

"You don't need to wear it on my account," she a.s.sured him. "Actually, I'd rather you didn't."

"It came with the suit," Cliff muttered. "I didn't think one of my string ties would do."

"Why not?" She didn't want him to be uncomfortable; this day would be long enough as it was.

"Really? You mean it?"

"Yes, I do." Grace kissed his cheek.

Raising his eyebrows, he eyed her in the pale pink suit. "You wearing panty hose?"

"Truth?" Cliff knew her aversion to nylons, especially the control-top kind. "I cheated." She lifted the skirt to reveal her thigh-high stockings.

Grinning, Cliff reached for the corner of his bow tie and pulled. The black silk instantly unfolded. He walked into their shared closet, and when he reappeared, he looked like a different man, relaxed and at ease. The bowtie had been replaced with an elegant black string tie and opal clasp, the perfect complement to his formal attire. Now he resembled the man she'd married.

On the way to the church hall, Grace thought about mentioning a troubling conversation she'd recently had with Olivia. Her friend had suggested that Will Jefferson might have the audacity to show up uninvited.

Grace didn't want to believe that Will would crash their wedding reception, but she was afraid acknowledging it would only cause more trouble, so she kept the information to herself.

"Something's wrong with Olivia," she said abruptly as Cliff helped her into the car.

"Excuse me?" Cliff asked, giving her an odd look.

Grace hadn't intended to blurt it out. This feeling, this intuition, had hovered in her consciousness for the last couple of weeks, but Grace had tried to ignore it while she prepared for the reception.

At first she'd a.s.sumed that whatever it was had to do with Will. Now she wasn't so sure. Olivia and Grace hadn't met for aerobics cla.s.s for the past two Wednesdays, which was completely unlike Olivia. Grace would willingly have skipped the workout and gone straight for the coconut cream pie. Not Olivia. Her friend was a stickler about their exercise routine. If it hadn't been for Olivia, Grace would've dropped it years ago. The fact that Olivia had cancelled two weeks in a row told Grace something was going on.

She should've just asked.

This blasted reception was to blame. All her time and energy had gone into the arrangements for it.

"What's the problem with Olivia?" Cliff asked when he'd joined her in the front seat.