Nolan Trilogy (78 page)

“Noooo!”  Frannie protested.  “No crying until after the pictures!” 

The door opened and a dark face peeked in.  It was the pastor’s daughter—Aretha—the one Erica had arranged to sing after the exchange of vows. 

“It’s time,” she called, smiling at all of them standing there.  “Time to get married!” 

The girls gathered around Leah, already squealing and giggling in anticipation, gathering their bouquets of pale pink and white roses and handing over Leah’s.  Hers was double in size, and all her roses were a light blush, the palest pink. 

“Ready?”  Leah’s mother asked, taking her daughter’s arm. 

“You look beautiful, Mom,” Leah whispered.  It wasn’t the blush-colored mother-of-the bride dress she was wearing, it was the smile on her face, the sparkle in her mother’s eyes.  She’d never seen her look so light or free.  The secret her mother had been carrying hadn’t just hardened her, it had dimmed her, but now that she’d opened up about it, something about Patty Wendt absolutely shined. 

Erica looked at their mother, cocking her head and smiling.  “You do, Mom.” 

“So do you, girls.”  Patty Wendt started blinking fast, tilting her head back.  “Oh no, not the waterworks!” 

Leah came to the rescue and handed over Marty’s borrowed handkerchief to Erica, who wiped away their mother’s happy tears as the girls all lined up, the music already filling the church.  Leah smiled at her mother as she took the handkerchief back, keeping it in her hand, hidden by her bouquet. 

She had a feeling she was going to need it. 

Leah thought she couldn’t top the moment when Erica called Patty “Mom,” just before Leah took her mother’s arm and walked down the aisle. 

But then she saw the look on Rob’s face when he first glimpsed her in her wedding dress, the pride and love there shining like a light meant just for her, and she was sure then nothing could get better than that. 

Until the moment Father Michael pronounced them husband and wife, and Rob lifted her veil and gathered her up and kissed her as the dark angel behind them broke into glorious song and she thought she’d never felt so beautiful, had never heard anything so beautiful, would never in her life experience anything this beautiful again. 

But if her wedding day had been the most delightful, enchanting day of her life, like walking into the pages of a fairy tale, her honeymoon surpassed it by light years.  Her wedding had taken place on the planet Earth, and while she felt as if she were floating through the day like an angel or a goddess, there had been reminders of everyday life to keep her at least a little grounded. 

Every day things like exchanging addresses and phone numbers with all her bridesmaids, knowing she wouldn’t see them again for a long time.  Things like meeting Marty’s tall, tanned, real-cowboy husband, who shook her hand in the receiving line and said, “Congratulations to you and your bloke, Sheila,” and Leah had been too embarrassed to correct him on getting her name wrong, and thank goodness she had been, because Marty explained later while they dancing to Chubby Checker’s
Twist
, that her husband had just been using an Australian term of endearment. 

She had glimpsed Ada crying through the ceremony while Solie handed her Kleenex out of the depths of her considerable cleavage, like an endless scarf-pulling magic trick, using the space between her voluminous breasts as a tissue dispenser for Ada on one side of her and Leah’s mother on the other.  Between the three of them they cried a happy river of tears. 

Leah saw Erica dancing with the Clayton boy, her blond head resting on his shoulder, eyes closed, and she wondered how long it would be before they were doing this again for her, in spite of Erica protests about running off into the big, wide world and becoming a journalist.  Erica had, after all, caught the bouquet.

All of those things kept pulling Leah back down to earth throughout the day and into the evening as their guests ate dinner and drank champagne and toasted the happy couple and rapped on their glasses with their knives so often Leah thought her lips would get chapped from the kisses initiated by that long-standing tradition.  Not that she minded kissing Rob.  Not at all. 

By the time she’d changed into her brown pinstriped going-away outfit, she was more than ready for her honeymoon to begin.  The long stares Rob had been giving her all night, the dark, wolfish look in his eyes, had made her knees wobbly and her belly a roiling sea of emotion.  She hardly ate anything, too distracted, and anyway, fairy tale creatures didn’t need human sustenance, did they? 

Leah kissed all her bridesmaids goodbye and hugged her sister the tightest, thanking her for everything,
everything
, and Erica kissed her cheek and promised to take care of everything while they were gone, not to worry, she had it under control.  Leah’s mother hugged them both, the three of them a trio of wet eyes and smudged mascara when they parted. 

And she cried again when Marty handed over little Gregory and she held him close, watching him make sucking motions in his sleep, her tears falling onto the soft blue blanket his mother had swaddled him in.  Marty promised to write and urged Leah to call her, not if but when, baby Grace was back in her mother’s empty, aching arms. 

The honeymoon started in the limo on the way over to the hotel.  Rob had booked a room overnight in the Fort Shelby—their flight to the Caribbean didn’t leave until the morning—and the two of them made out like teenagers in the back of the Rolls-Royce Phantom in spite of the driver being able to glance in the rear view mirror and see them.  That just made it all the more exciting. 

“I can’t wait to get you out of these clothes,” Rob whispered into her ear, his hand moving up under her skirt, stroking the exposed expanse of skin on her thigh above her stocking.  “You’re mine, sweetheart.  All mine.” 

“Yes,” she breathed, squirming on the seat, arms twined around her neck, breath coming so fast she thought she might faint.  “Always.” 

She could barely believe it was true.  Leah heard the man behind the concierge desk in the Fort Shelby address them as Mr. and Mrs. Nolan with a sense of wonder and awe.  The bellhop brought up their luggage, taking them down the hallway to their room.  Rob tipped him and the bellboy tipped his hat and grinned, handing over the key and thanking him before heading back down the hall. 

Leah remembered staying at Fort Shelby during their annual end of the school year trip to Detroit’s local amusement parks.  They had run around like little kids, she and Erica, so young and carefree.  Leah had been head over heels in love with Rob and neither of them could deny it anymore, in spite of Erica’s misgivings about the relationship.  He had proposed to her the same weekend, and she thought they were going to live happily ever after, that she finally had the fairy tale. 

So much time and heartache between then and now, so many losses, so much sacrifice.  But none of it mattered when Rob unlocked the door to the honeymoon suite, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her over the threshold, nudging their suitcases in and kicking the door closed behind him.  She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek, leaving a visible lipstick print. 

“What should we do first?”  Leah pondered aloud when he set her on the bed.  She leaned back, kicking off her high heels.  “Take a shower?  Watch TV?  Order room service?” 

Rob crawled onto the bed, onto her, making her lean back on the pillow.  “The first thing I’m doing is getting you out of these clothes and making love to my wife.” 

“Your wife,” Leah repeated, trying it on for size. 

“My wife.” 

“I like the sound of that,” she whispered. 

“So do I.” 

Her whole life started then, right there in the Fort Shelby hotel, when they made love for the first time as husband and wife.  She didn’t understand it and she didn’t have to—her body had already decided for her.  It had picked Rob without hesitation, making her palms sweat whenever he was around, her bottom clench, her breath quicken, and her nipples harden.  Her body had chosen it all—even the spark of life that had grown inside of her as Grace, finally birthing her right into Leah’s own hands.

“I love you, Mr. Nolan,” Leah whispered as he kissed her blouse open with every button. 

He smiled up at her.  “I love you too, Mrs. Nolan.” 

Mrs. Nolan.  She was Mrs. Nolan.  She belonged to him. 

He rained kissed down on her as he undressed her, kissing every exposed bit of skin as he revealed it, bit by bit, until she was just in her stockings, bra and garters, her panties down at her knees.  She wanted him so much by then she was shaking with it, but he ordered her to stay there, right there on the bed, while he stood and pulled off his tie, tossing it aside and beginning to unbutton his shirt. 

“Hurry!”  Leah complained, holding her arms out to him like a child.  “Faster!” 

“Brat.”  He peeled his shirt off, tossing at the foot of the bed, unbuckling his pants. 

“I’m your wife now,” she reminded him, sticking out her tongue.  “You should be a good husband and say ‘Yes, Dear.’”

“Yes, Dear,” he replied, sliding his trousers and boxers off and adding them to the pile with his shirt. 

“Socks, too,” she instructed.  “I can’t make love to you if you’re still wearing your socks.  That’s just wrong.” 

He rolled his eyes, and she laughed at the way he looked, his erection bobbing as he pulled off first one sock, then the other.  “Better?” 

“Much!”  She opened her arms and he went to her, sliding inside of her before she could open her mouth to say another word, his aim shockingly accurate, the drive of his hips forcing her thighs apart and her knees up. 

“Now what was that about being a good husband?”  he whispered, looking into her eyes as he pulled his hips back and thrust again. 

“I don’t remember.”  She put her arms around his neck, pelvis rocking to meet him. 

“Sure you do.”  He rolled his hips between her legs, grinding slowly.  Leah moaned, feeling every bit of him touching her inside, front, back, filling her completely.  “What am I supposed to say?” 

“Yes, Dear,” she cried as he gave her a sudden, sweet pulse of thrusts, short, hard blasts that made her teeth rattle and her breasts bounce and her sex ache.  “Ohhh yes! Yes!” 

“That’s my good little wife,” he teased, giving her more of the same—hard and fast was the ticket, and she let him know with her moans, hips gyrating, hand slipping down to rub herself.  “Tell me how much you like it.” 

“Oh Rob,” she cried, looking up into his eyes.  “I love it, I love you.” 

“I love you too.”  He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. 

Leah had been anticipating this moment all day, her whole life, and she worked toward that moment of bliss, feeling it hovering just out of her reach as Rob pounded her into the bed, the headboard banging hard against the wall, making her flush with embarrassment at the thought of their neighbors hearing, whoever they were—what if they ran into them in the hallway, what then? 

But the thought was fleeting because Rob was taking her now, giving into his own lust, taking her with him on a one-way ride to ecstasy.  Leah cried out when her head hit the headboard, putting her other hand above her head to keep herself from sliding further up, her other too busy between her legs to move it, but Rob didn’t notice.