In Name Only (A Pine Falls Novel Book 2) Page 8

  Brock interrupted my depressing thoughts by reaching across the expansive back seat and taking my hand. It didn’t go unnoticed by John. He smiled at me through the rearview mirror, pleased, as if it were all going according to his plans. It washed away any comfort I felt from Brock’s touch. His father had probably given him some sort of signal, reminding him he needed to act like a doting husband.

  I didn’t even turn to acknowledge Brock. It was one way of standing up to John. Instead, I leaned my head against the cool glass and listened to Sheridan excitedly name off all the people she couldn’t wait to see at the party. People she couldn’t wait to introduce me to. It made me feel sicker to my stomach than I already felt.

  Thankfully, it didn’t take long for us to get to the airport. Driving into the Hollands’ large private hangar with their sleek jet ready to go was surreal. The well-lit hangar had offices and even a minibar. It belonged on that old show, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. It all served as a reminder that I was living someone else’s life. Even though I had flown on it once before, many years ago when Jonah had married his first wife, Eliza, in Nantucket. Back then it had seemed fun to spend the weekend with my closest friends—minus Ariana, as she couldn’t bear to watch the man she loved marry another—jetting around. At the time, there was so much ease between Brock and me. I missed that more than anything.

  The pilot and copilot greeted us and took our luggage. While John and Sheridan boarded the plane, Brock held me back before I could climb the stairs. “Are you okay? You were quiet on the drive over.”

  I nodded, too tired to speak or tell the truth. Not that it would matter if I did. I would still be getting on that plane and flying toward what was sure to be an uncomfortable weekend. Made worse by the fact that I had to pretend I was a happy newlywed who wasn’t vomiting almost every day.

  Brock narrowed his eyes, not believing me.

  I didn’t try to convince him. I turned and trudged up the stairs.

  The jet could carry over ten people and had a few different seating areas. A group of four chairs sat around a table. John was already sitting there with his laptop open. I knew Brock would join him. Sheridan was cozied up on the leather couch, hugging a navy throw pillow with the Holland Industries logo on it. It resembled a flame—appropriate since it was a gas and oil company.

  Sheridan patted the seat next to her. “Sit by me, Dani darling.”

  I scooted down the length of the plane, past John, who flashed me a toothy smile. I kept my face straight and passed on to sit next to my mother-in-law, who couldn’t have beamed any brighter at me. Guiltily, I sat next to her.

  She patted my leg. “I’ve been waiting for this day.”

  Her happiness ate at me, yet also made me want to reciprocate. “Me too,” I mostly lied. I really had longed for a day like this. Not necessarily in a private jet with every amenity you could wish for, including a small galley, big-screen TV, and even Wi-Fi. You could honestly smell how expensive the leather seats were. Regardless, I had wished for a day when Sheridan called me daughter and loved me like I were her own. And here I was, living out that wish, and I couldn’t enjoy it because it wasn’t real. I wasn’t really her son’s wife. I was merely the mother of her grandchild, who she had no idea existed.

  “I had dinner catered. It’s being kept warm in the galley. We can eat whenever you’d like.”

  I was thinking never. I could already smell the baked chicken and broccoli, and it was making me have to take shallow breaths. If I could take the B6 and doxylamine, I would, but it would be too suspicious, and Sheridan was obviously looking at this like a girls’ night. It would be rude for me to sleep through it.

  “I’m good for now, but please don’t let me keep you from eating.”

  She squeezed my leg. “I’m in no rush.”

  That was good news.

  The captain informed us over the intercom that we were ready to take off and should expect a four-hour flight. That meant we would be arriving in Arlington around eleven their time, and we still had to drive into DC. We were staying at some ridiculously priced hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue, where the engagement party would happen on Saturday night. John and Sheridan would be in the neighboring suite, so there was no getting two rooms. That was fine by me. It was the only silver lining of the trip—my husband and I had to share a bed.

  The plane taxied out of the hangar, and before I knew it, we were in the air.

  Brock and John were already knee-deep in business, talking about the fluctuating prices of natural gas, by the time we were cruising above the clouds.

  Sheridan rolled her eyes at them. “Let’s ignore them.”

  “Fine by me.” I grinned.

  She laughed this soft, melodic laugh. She embodied class and kindness. It made me wonder how she’d ended up with John. I supposed I could ask her.

  “Tell me, how did you meet John?”

  John didn’t even flinch when I mentioned his name, he was so focused on numbers and forecasts.

  Her eyes lit up before she let out a sigh. “That is quite the story.”

  “You don’t have to share it with me.” I recognized some hesitation on her part.

  “No. No. We don’t have secrets in this family.”

  I clasped my hands in front of my midsection, as if to protect the biggest family secret of all.

  Sheridan waved her hand at all the luxury that surrounded us. “It’s only that this is a far cry from how I thought my story would go.”

  I tilted my head. “Really.”

  “Oh yes. I was brought up in much different circumstances from the ones I live in now. Who would have ever thought a small-town waitress would end up living like this?”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “Some dirt town in the middle of Kansas. My parents hardly had two nickels to rub together. I worked all through high school waiting tables just to help my family make ends meet. But I didn’t mind. I loved my parents. They had nothing yet still made us think we were the richest people in the world because we had each other.”

  “You must miss them.” I knew they had both passed away within days of each other a few years ago.

  “I do. Daddy used to call me every week and tease me, asking me if I was ready to leave John and come home. I used to beg them to come live near us. We offered to build them a house on our property, but they never wanted to feel like they were a charity case. They were so proud of me and John.”

  Interesting. “So how did you meet?”

  She rested her elbow on the back of the couch, and her head fell neatly into her manicured hand. Her humongous diamond wedding ring glittered in the light. “It’s a funny story. I was on my way to the diner one day to work a double shift. I was in my daddy’s old Oldsmobile truck that had a huge bulbous front. It was more rusted than it was painted, and boy, did it rumble.” She laughed, obviously fond of the old truck. “Anyway, I was driving down the highway, singing along to the static radio, and I see this handsome man dressed up in a fancy three-piece suit, pacing in front of his tiny red sports car that had steam pouring out of the popped hood. He looked so out of place, but there was something about him. He didn’t appear to be swearing or kicking the tires. I could see that while he paced, he was thoughtfully thinking about what his best course of action would be. This was back before the days of cell phones, and it was almost a five-mile walk into town, so he didn’t have a lot of options.”

  “Did you stop?”

  She bit her lip. “Well, not at first. I was raised to never pick up hitchhikers. But as I drove past him, I kept thinking it was so dusty and hot out that he was going to ruin that suit.”

  She made me giggle. She did love clothes. It would seem she always had.

  “And,” she continued, “I thought he must have somewhere important to be, dressed up like that in the middle of the day. So, I flipped a U-turn in the middle of that two-lane highway. I pulled off on the other side of the road from him, rolled down my window, and hollered, “Looks
like you’re having some trouble.” She got all dreamy eyed. “But it was me who was in trouble. His smile and eyes hit me like a Kansas tornado, and I got swept up in them.”

  “Weren’t you worried he could be dangerous?” Because he absolutely was.

  She tossed her head from side to side. “Maybe a little, but he was such a gentleman. He never approached my truck. He shouted his name and wondered if, when I got to where I was going, I could make a call for him. It was a long-distance call, and at the time, those weren’t cheap. He promised I would be reimbursed for my trouble.”

  “Who did you call for him?”

  “His secretary in Denver. He looked too young to have a secretary, but she worked her magic and rescued him, though I didn’t know that until a week later when he showed up at the diner asking for me.”

  That kind of creeped me out. “How did he know where to find you?”

  “I had given his secretary my name when I called and told her where I was calling from, just in case she needed to call back. It was a different time back then. We were too trusting, but I wanted to make sure Mr. Wiley, who owned the diner, got reimbursed for that call.”

  I supposed that made sense. “Did he get reimbursed?”

  She smiled. “Oh yes. John paid his entire phone bill for that month. He’s always been generous like that.”

  I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. He probably did it all for show or to impress Sheridan. There was no way he had done it out of the goodness of his heart, because he didn’t have one.

  “In fact,” she continued, “when Mr. Wiley got sick about twenty years ago and was about to lose everything, John stepped in and paid off all his debt and took care of his medical bills. John said he owed him the world for bringing us together.”

  I pressed my lips together, not sure what to say. That was actually sweet, and possibly sincere. Perhaps John was a different person twenty years ago. But he was already in politics by then, and I wasn’t sure there was anyone in office with a completely clear conscience. Not even poor Brant, for as good as he was, would have one. He was marrying a woman he didn’t love, all because of the game. And his father.

  “Wow,” was all I could say.

  She ran a hand through her hair, which shone like she was still a younger woman. “We made some good memories in that diner. Even though, admittedly, I was kind of embarrassed at first. We were from two different worlds.”

  I swallowed hard. “I can relate.”

  She patted my leg. “I know you can. We are kindred spirits. But please remember never to base your worth on what anyone tells you or thinks of you. I had to learn that lesson the hard way over many years of being scrutinized.”

  “By whom?”

  “Oh, you name it. His business associates and their wives. His parents. Unfortunately, even my own friends and extended family, who thought I had gotten too big for my britches. All I was trying to do was follow my heart and be with the man I loved. The man who not once made me feel undeserving of him or ashamed for how poor I was. Yet, it didn’t matter how good John had been to me—I felt lost for a long time until I finally realized it was okay for people to be wrong about me. As long as I knew I was doing my best, that was all that really mattered.”

  We were kindred spirits. I’d had to come to terms with those same demons after Grandma and Grandpa had adopted me. I’d had to lose the attitude that I was inferior because of the circumstances I had been born into. I’d had to learn that it wasn’t my fault and it didn’t make me less of a person. When I’d come to terms with that and realized I didn’t have to be a product of my circumstances, it was life changing. It actually allowed me to befriend people like Brock and Brant. Yet, living in their world wasn’t as easy. It wasn’t because I felt inferior—it was because I felt helpless. And guilty. Guilty for hurting those I loved and guilty for living amid so much extravagance. Everything I wore and drove reminded me of what good that money could do to help the children I worked with. This jet alone would sustain my foundation for decades.

  “So did John come in and sweep you off your feet?”

  She looked back at him for a moment and shook her head in a reminiscent sort of way before turning back toward me. “Not quite. I mean, I was taken with him. But I was smart enough to know that rich young men didn’t typically date waitresses who couldn’t even afford to attend community college. I was very cautious at first. And so nervous. My hand was shaking so bad the first time I served him a cup of coffee that I dropped the pot right in front of him. It shattered, and coffee went everywhere, including all over his suit pants and leather shoes. I was so embarrassed, but John just smiled and helped me clean it up.”

  Who was this John she spoke of? It certainly wasn’t the man who threatened me. I sat there astonished as I listened to her recount the year they’d dated. How he had driven over five hundred miles to see her almost every weekend, even if it only meant he could sit in the diner while she worked and talk to her when she went on break. By all accounts, he was patient and tender. He’d taken her on picnics and taught her how to dance. It made me want to know him. I wondered what had happened to him in the past forty years to make him the calculating manipulator he was today.

  While I was caught up in Sheridan’s story, Brock appeared before us.

  Sheridan beamed up at him. “Can we help you?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was wondering if I could trade you places?”

  Sheridan couldn’t smile any wider. “Of course you can sit by your bride.”

  I really wished she wouldn’t call me that. And I kind of wished she would stay. I felt safe around Sheridan. I appreciated the way she had opened up to me. It helped me connect with her. And Brock probably only wanted to sit by me because his dad had told him he should.

  Sheridan wrapped me in her arms before she relinquished her spot. “If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you. And don’t let Jill get to you.”

  I leaned back, in shock. “How did you know—”

  “Honey, I know her type. She doesn’t fool me, and don’t let her fool you.” She stood without another word.

  In amazement, I watched her head toward John, who reached out and pulled his wife onto his lap. She snuggled into him, and he tenderly kissed her lips. I felt the love between them and was almost jealous, even if I hated John. The man was a walking dichotomy. Sheridan confused me too. How could she see through Jill but not her husband? I didn’t have time to dwell on it as Brock slid in next to me, looking a little apprehensive. Which put me on edge.

  “I thought you needed to work.”

  He brushed my hair back off my shoulder. “There are more important things.”

  I wanted to believe his words but couldn’t. I leaned in as close as I could get to whisper in his ear, “Like pleasing your father.”

  “That sounds disturbing,” he teased.

  A small laugh escaped me. He hadn’t teased me in a long time.

  My laugh made him smile.

  My fingers gently played near the corners of his mouth. “I’ve missed your smile.”

  He reached up and caught my hand. “I came over here because I was missing you.”

  I bit my lip. “You were?”

  “You find that hard to believe?” he whispered.

  I nodded.

  “Let me see what I can do about that.” He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around me.

  I curled my feet under me and tucked into his side, my head landing on his chest. I savored the closeness and thrilled to hear his heart beat as erratically as mine was. I closed my eyes, feeling at home for the first time in a long time.

  “Is this better?” he asked.

  “Much better.”

  Chapter Ten

  I sat in a lounge chair on the terrace outside my hotel bedroom, watching the early-morning runners jog along the path that followed the C&O Canal. They almost seemed out of place in this historic city. The old buildings and trees that could probably tell incredi
ble stories made me feel as if I had been transported back in time two hundred years. The city was on the verge of fall—there was still plenty of greenery, but hints of red and orange played among the leaves. Though it wasn’t cold, the humidity made it feel damp and chilly. I wrapped the thick cotton hotel robe around me tighter. It was as luxurious as the accommodations.

  I couldn’t sleep, even though the bed was probably the most comfortable bed I’d ever had the pleasure of lying on. Between the baby, who made me have to use the bathroom more and more every day, and how lonely the space felt with Brock sleeping on the couch in the living room, I had given up and come out here to read. I was grateful for technology, allowing me to conceal all my books about pregnancy on the reading app on my phone. Though I had a hard time concentrating. I thought, with how Brock had behaved on the flight last night, that he would have taken me up on the invitation to share the bed. I’d even offered to place pillows between us, if it made him feel better. He had only kissed my head and made up the couch.

  It had to have been an uncomfortable night for him. The couch, though roomy, was much smaller than his tall, muscular frame. Not to mention he was having bad dreams again last night. He’d called my name a few times. However, each time I’d checked on him, he was fitfully sleeping, unaware I was watching over him. I’d wondered if his nightmares were of Afghanistan or our situation. Maybe some of both.

  I nibbled on my protein bar while trying to comprehend what I was reading about natural childbirth techniques and the benefits of hiring a doula. I was worried about how the day of my delivery would look. Would Brock want to be by my side? Would he come to the birthing classes and future prenatal appointments with me? I was too afraid to ask him, even though I ached for him to be my partner in this. I knew what a selfish, unfair wish that was. For now, I planned on going it alone. I should probably get a doula.