Lined With Silver (6 page)

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Authors: Roseanne Evans Wilkins

Tags: #romantic suspense, #lds fiction, #clean romance, #contemporary romance, #arranged marriage, #lds romance, #surrogate mother

BOOK: Lined With Silver
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Some of the open doors revealed a room with
wood floors. Walls were decorated with personal items.

Mitchell Wright Carlson’s door was closed.
Zack reached down and touched the doorknob. He hesitated long
enough for Sondra to sense his dread.

The opening door revealed a wall hung with
hand-drawn pictures from Zack’s nieces and nephews expressing their
desire to have their grandpa home soon. Sondra steeled herself
against another onslaught of tears. It was obvious the man with the
gray skin undertone wasn’t going back to any earthly home.

“Dad.” Zack’s voice was loud in the quiet
room.

The man in the bed started awake. Despite his
visible illness, his eyes showed a clear understanding of his
surroundings.

“Zack. How good to see you, son.” His alert
eyes rested on Zack’s discolored eye. “Did you win?”

Sondra had expected a harsh man after the
demands he’d put on his son, but the love he had for Zack glowed in
his eyes.

“Of course I did. You raised a winner.” He
grinned at his dad, who smiled back. Zack rubbed the back of his
neck, as if he wasn’t sure how to approach his father. His tone
changed. “I talked to Grant yesterday.”

A steely look entered Mitchell’s eyes. He
asked in a voice firm even so near death, “How did it go?”

“He let me know you changed your will.”

“I did. It’s time you settled down. You
should’ve married Hannah years ago.”

“Dad,” Zack sighed heavily, “she married
Doug. Remember? It was right after Mom died.”

Sudden confusion shifted Mitchell’s focus.
“Laurie isn’t dead. She was visiting me today. I don’t know what
you’re talking about.”

Almost overwhelmed by this new bit of
knowledge— that Zack had lost his mother and was clearly close to
losing his father—Sondra willed herself to focus.

Whatever had happened with Mitchell, Zack,
and the will, she was sure he wouldn’t have made the choice in an
earlier time. He obviously loved his son, and he also loved his
deceased wife. The only unknown was Zack’s sister, and Sondra
couldn’t make any judgments without having met her.

Zack didn’t argue with his father, instead,
he said, “Dad, I want you to meet my wife. This is Sondra.”

Zack pulled her gently forward. When Mitchell
reached for her hand, she was surprised by how firm Mitchell’s grip
was.

His voice shook slightly. “You’re as
beautiful as Laurie. I wish you all happiness.” Confused, he looked
over at Zack, Sondra’s hand still in his. “When did you marry?”

Zack stepped over and put an arm around her.
“We married this morning.”

Still holding onto her hand like it was a
buoy in a storm, Mitchell asked, “How come I never heard about
this?”

“Dad, you’ve not been well. I didn’t want to
worry you with wedding plans.” He smiled at Sondra, his eyes
challenging her to keep up the charade.

She smiled at the ailing man, unsure of what
she should say. He seemed to accept her quiet assurance as evidence
of their commitment. He finally released her hand, looked up at his
son, smiled, and drifted back into what she assumed was a
drug-assisted sleep.

Guilt washed over her. She wasn’t accustomed
to playing parts, and deception wasn’t something she felt
comfortable with. The story of Abraham and Sarah when they entered
Egypt and claimed to be siblings sprang to mind. Sometimes, Sondra
rationalized, a small lie for the greater good is justified. The
problem, she reminded herself, is where those small lies lead.

 

Chapter Five, Tours

Zack tenderly stroked his father’s thick gray
hair then bent down and whispered, “I love ya, Dad.” The light
reflected off a single tear wandering down Zack’s cheek. He brushed
it off as he turned to leave.

Sondra pulled the blankets up over Mitchell’s
hands and up to his neck, making sure the IV tubing was hanging
free, feeling with some sorrow this might be the only interaction
she would ever have with Zack’s father.

“I know we spent some of your vacation time
with Dad, but we also need to see Grant.” Zack’s voice didn’t seem
so loud in the hallway.

“The attorney?” she guessed.

Zack nodded. “Dad really isn’t in a clear
enough frame of mind to trust him to communicate with Grant. If
we’re going to keep my grandmother in her own home, we need to
follow up.”

“That’s fine.” It was her own fault her
travel plans had been intruded on. She was the one who’d come up
with this scheme.

She sat in silence while they drove to the
office. This time, she followed Zack. A brassy blond receptionist,
her professional attire matching the office décor, looked up as
they walked by, but she didn’t stop them.

He rapped softly and then opened the door
before the occupant had a chance to respond. A tall, white-haired
man stood to greet him. “This is an unexpected surprise.”

Zack’s voice was wry. “I figured you’d be
here. You always are.” He slid the prenuptial agreement and the
wedding license across the desk. “I didn’t want to say anything
yesterday, but Sondra and I were planning to marry. We just moved
up the date.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “How long have you
known…” and his gaze turned to her. “Sondra?”

“We met sixteen years ago.” Zack’s reply was
prompt.

“Hmmmm.” The gray-haired man didn’t seem
impressed, but he glanced over the papers. “Who wrote this?”

“Sondra is an attorney. She did.”

Grant nodded. “It looks air tight.” He
glanced up. “Congratulations. I wish you all happiness.” He looked
down at the papers again and slid them across the desk. “I’ll need
copies for my records.”

Zack nodded at his curt dismissal and led
Sondra back to the waiting area. He leaned over and whispered,
“Grant has been Dad’s lawyer since I can remember. He’s definitely
old school.”

“And that means…” she prompted.

“He doesn’t like his space invaded.”

“I could tell.”

As if on cue, the receptionist stepped up,
her hand out in a request for the documents. She returned them
quickly and asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Zack shook his head. “We’re on our honeymoon.
We probably won’t be reachable for the next few days.”

She smiled knowingly at both of them, and
Sondra hoped the warmth on her cheeks wasn’t another tell-tale
blush. She’d been doing far too much of it the last couple of days.
She snuck a look at Zack, who didn’t seem at all bothered by the
secretary’s clear assumptions.

Instead of being embarrassed, Zack shocked
her with a quick dip down and a thorough albeit short exploration
of her lips with his own. Sondra could hardly stand up when he
pulled away, and his wicked grin didn’t look at all repentant.

She took in a breath to deliver a severe
reprimand when she was stopped by the look on Zack’s face. Grant
had entered the room. Their charade had to look real. Zack was
adding in detail, she reminded herself. She wondered if his work in
Afghanistan included anything in the spy department. His ability to
fake their relationship astounded her.

* * *

When they were heading back toward DC, Zack
turned to Sondra. “Okay. Now that’s out of the way, what’s your
pleasure?”

She was hit with a vision of him repeating
his earlier lip exploration in the comfort of her own room. She
closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and met his curious gaze.
“White House or Smithsonian?”

“We can’t tour the White House. We don’t have
tickets.” He switched lanes to avoid a lumbering truck.

“I knew that. Sorry. I meant the Capitol
Building.”

“That one shouldn’t be a problem. The House
and Senate are recessed for the holidays, but I believe the
building is open for tours.”

“Serves me right for making an unplanned
trip. I really wanted to see Congress in action.” Sondra couldn’t
help the disappointment that crept into her voice.

“Maybe some other time?” he encouraged.

“I doubt I’ll ever come back, so I’ll have to
make do.”

“We’ll see about that.” He didn’t expand on
the comment, but Sondra got the feeling he wasn’t going to let her
give up on her dream. He continued, “The Capitol Visitor Center is
on the east side. There are always protesters of one kind or
another at the front.”

“Photograph opportunities?”

He chuckled. “Something like that.”

They parked a couple of blocks from the
building. Sondra looked up at Zack, startled when he reached for
her hand. She decided the hand-holding was harmless, so she didn’t
pull away, and it didn’t take her long to appreciate the warmth of
his hand against the frigid air. She stuffed her other hand in her
pocket and didn’t pull it out again until they were in front of the
building.

She kicked herself for not buying the bulkier
ski gloves which had been hanging next to the knit ones. She was
vain enough to think they wouldn’t match her wool coat. In this
weather, vanity could be painful.

As Zack had predicted, several protestors
with hand-made signs were pacing back and forth in front of the
steps leading to the Capitol. Sondra pulled out her camera and took
a few pictures before heading around to the Visitor Center.

As they entered the building, Sondra pulled
off her gloves and stuffed them in her coat pocket. She turned
slowly, soaking in the ambience.

“I can’t believe I’m really here.” She picked
up a leaflet. Zack reached for her hand again, and they joined one
of the lines for a tour.

“How come you haven’t come before?”

Sondra wrinkled her nose and admitted, “I
didn’t have the chance while I was attending school, and I’ve been
too wrapped up in the office to take any time for myself. Nikki’s
request forced me to stop and think about where I’m heading. I
decided a trip away for the weekend would help clear my head.” She
shook her head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t have dreamed this trip
would lead to my marriage.”

Zack chuckled. “It wasn’t anywhere on my
radar, either, but it seems to be the best solution for both of
us.”

They stopped and watched a short orientation
video before heading into the Emancipation Hall, which was designed
to recognize the work of the slave laborers who helped build the
Capitol Building. The sandstone slabs echoed the sandstone used
throughout the building. They stopped at the document display and
then moved on to the Capitol Building itself.

The building smelled of age, but the
beautiful art was carefully preserved, and the electric lighting
fought valiantly against the winter overcast.

As they entered the rotunda, the guide
stopped to face the group. “We won’t be going through the Great
Experiment Hall, but I wanted to mention it. Allyn Cox painted
sixteen murals depicting various milestones in the history of this
nation starting with the Mayflower Compact of 1629 to the women’s
right to vote in 1920. The hall was dedicated in 1982, not long
before his death. He also painted several of the medallion
portraits above the doors. He sketched murals for another corridor,
but his assistant died in 1986 before the painting began.”

Zack leaned over to whisper to Sondra. “I
wonder if he’s frustrated the corridor was never finished.”

“I know I would be, but what he did is
incredible. Didn’t he do the rotunda restoration as well?” Sondra
asked.

The guide answered before Zack could, “It was
his work on the restoration which got him the position to paint the
murals. He also filled in the 31’ gap of the frieze in the
rotunda.” She pointed to the frieze above. “He painted the murals
depicting the Civil War, the Spanish-American War, and the Birth of
Aviation.”

Sondra stepped closer to Zack and whispered,
“Isn’t it amazing how that unintentional gap left room for some
essential historical murals?”

“I’d say a lot of unintentional mistakes end
up being for the best.” Zack said softly.

Sondra wondered what he was getting at. His
voice sounded like there was a double meaning to the phrase, and
she suspected he was referring to their own situation. A small seed
of hope planted. It was one she wanted to keep hidden.

They slowly walked past the statues and busts
depicting presidents and other historical figures. They stopped
with the guide in front of the statue of Abraham Lincoln. She
addressed the group. “President Lincoln sat for Vinnie Read. She
was the sculptor who created this masterpiece, and she was the
first female artist to receive a Government commission.”

Zack chuckled quietly. “Ah. So the women’s
liberation movement is as old as the Civil War, huh?”

Sondra punched Zack’s arm playfully. “I’d say
it’s as old as the planet.”

He grimaced and rubbed his arm. “That
hurt.”

“Huh. I don’t think so.”

He grinned, then stared up at the art in the
eye of the inner dome.

The guide pointed up at the mural above them.
“Those figures are up to 15’ tall. You’d never guess from here,
would you?” She glanced at the group and waited for the comments to
fade. “You can probably tell Constantino Brumidi studied in Italy.
It looks a lot like the Sistine Chapel, doesn’t it?” Sondra and
Zack nodded politely with the others in the group.

Zack leaned close to Sondra and said, “It
even has the same religious undertone. No modern artist would get
away with showing George Washington’s ascension into heaven
accompanied by the angels of Liberty and Victory. It’s a shame
we’ve let modern society forget the religious background of this
great country. We wouldn’t be who we are today without the hand of
God in its creation.”

Sondra stared at Zack a moment, amazed he
would be so bold to say something like that in public, but she
noticed several of the people around them had turned to look and
nod in agreement.

She moved closer to him, proud that he had
taken a moment to stand up for something. But then, he was a
soldier. He had been willing to lay down his life for the
principles of freedom celebrated in this great building.

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