CHAPTER FIVE

Brooklyn

 

The next morning passed with a sense of unreality. I waited for Riley to call—he had taken it on himself to contact the registry office and find out if they had any open appointments, as it were. I was expecting him to only be able to phone them the next day—today was a public holiday, after all—but I was surprised when he contacted me while I was making lunch.

“Hello?” I frowned.

“Brooklyn? Hi! It’s me. I just talked to my cousin Carla. She says we can get married on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday.” I gaped. “Like, the day after tomorrow. That Tuesday.”

“Yes.”

I almost dropped the phone. Somehow, when we had sat here at this table yesterday after dinner, half of me had expected it would never happen. Now that we were looking it in the face, it took on a different significance.

“Okay,” I said softly. “So, Tuesday it is. You still sure we’re doing this, right?”

He laughed. “Never been so sure.”

“Okay.”

“So,” he continued. “We’re going to do it on Tuesday at four in the afternoon. That okay for you?”

“I guess it has to be.”

He chuckled. “Well, Carla says her friend Stella who works in the office can manage then.”

“Okay,” I nod. “So then it has to be. See you then.”

“Okay,” he said. He sounded a little rueful and it was only when I’d hung up that I realized he might have wanted to see me beforehand.

“Mommy?”

I sighed. I would have to tell Parker something. “Yes?”

“Was that Mister Riley?” she asked.

I nodded. Somehow, after Christmas day, Parker and Riley seemed to have become friends. I felt almost a little jealous of their instant trust, even though most of me rejoiced to see Parker opening up to another adult besides me. She was more settled, happier in ways I hadn’t seen for ages. It made me realize with some remorse that I had been overlooking her well-being in ways I hadn’t noticed before.

“Yes,” I nodded. “It was. He had to ask me something. And I have to ask you something too.”

“Mm?” She asked. She was sitting at the table, a shaft of light warming her honey-colored hair. She looked adorable and I had to resist the urge to go and snuggle her immediately.

“Well,” I sighed. “Mister Riley is having trouble…with his house,” I said. “And he asked me if he could come and stay here for a while. I was hoping that would be alright with…”

“Whee!” I hardly had a chance to complete the sentence before she exclaimed, her face lighting up with glee.

“Parker?” I asked, a slightly confused expression on my face.

“I want for Mister Riley to live here,” she explained contentedly. “He’s nice and friendly and he talks to me. Can he live here forever, Mommy?”

I stared at her. Parker was naturally a reserved child. I had never actually seen her take to any of my friends—male or female, that was—with the same alacrity.

“Well, he’s not staying forever, sweetheart,” I said cautiously. “But if you could be okay with him staying for a while, I would really like that.”

“I would like that too,” she said firmly. “Now I’m hungry. Are we ever having lunch?”

I laughed. “Okay, sweetie. Here it is.”

We had lunch and I had to admit to a strange excitement in my heart. Riley and I were going to get married the day after tomorrow.

The rest of that day and the next passed somehow. I found my concentration focused on thoughts of Tuesday and my marriage. My fake marriage.

The night before, as I lay in my bed, my thoughts were full of him. Riley Robson. I imagined taking off his clothes, the muscled body underneath. I imagined being in bed with him, pressing my body against that lean, strong chest. I imagined his warm arms round me, holding me as he pulsed inside me with what I thought would be a strong, hard cock.

I blushed as my hand wandered between my thighs, thinking about it. Of all the insane things. I was not exactly a first-time bride. I was a woman in my late thirties with a small child of my own. There was no reason for me to be obsessing about Riley. Except for the fact that he was Riley.

Come on, Brooklyn I told myself. Stop obsessing.

It didn’t help. Scenes played out over and again in my mind, scenes that made me blush. I imagined him naked and his hands stroking my soft skin making me gasp.

My hand slid between my thighs and as my mind wandered I touched myself.

My sleep, when it arrived finally, was heavy and dreamless, more content than I had felt for months.

The next morning was my wedding.

I had already decided I was going to wear the brown two-piece suit I had also been saving for something special. Like the red dress, it had become a crazy taboo for me. Wearing the brown suit was another kind of defiance. It would feel right.

I set it out on the cupboard and spent the morning with Parker, playing at making all sorts of clever things from the Crafter’s Crate magazine she had been given by my mother as a gift. I hadn’t stopped to think much about what my mother would say were she to hear I was sharing my roof with a handyman. She would disapprove. But she rarely approved of anything, so it had largely ceased to be a yardstick for me.

Besides, I reminded myself as I folded paper doilies into snowflake shapes and tried to convince myself I wasn’t nervous, she lived a few hundred miles away and was generally too concerned with her own business—literally, she owned a boutique store—to care much about my own.

“Mommy?”

“Mm?” I asked, snipping absently with kitchen scissors as I did so.

“Is Mister Riley moving in this afternoon?”

“Yes,” I nodded. I looked at the clock. It was lunchtime. “Which reminds me,” I said quickly. “We should have lunch, ’cause I have to go and help him with his things.”

We had lunch and then I was upstairs getting dressed. That was the tricky part, I realized. I’d told Parker I was going to help Riley pack and we’d be there at 5:00 p.m.. I hadn’t bothered to think about the fact that I’d be going out in a sale-price designer suit with my hair in an elaborate up-style.

I looked at myself in the mirror, my heart thumping in my chest. I looked pretty good, I had to admit. The skirt highlighted my narrow waist, the soft mocha of the suit bringing out the chestnut depths of my eyes. My hair was done in a French braid on the back of my head, chic and modern.

“Well then.” I let out a deep breath, descending the stairs in my elegant new shoes.

“Is Mommy going out?” Parker asked, where she swung from the rail at the bottom of the stairs. She didn’t look angry with me for lying, just curious.

“I’m visiting a friend on the way,” I lied. “She’s having a party and I’ll just drop in. See you at five. Be good for Mrs. Preston?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Mrs. Preston—Leonora—was her friend Stella’s mom. I often asked her to drop in to keep an eye on Parker if I had to go somewhere, and she did the same with me. She lived a few blocks away and had mercifully not arrived on time, giving me time to get out in my finery without having to answer tricky questions.

“Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye, mom.”

I slid into the car and then I was driving off into town.

The foyer at the municipal office was quiet. I was tense. I strode in and waited there, pacing. Where the hell was he? I felt my fists clench and my fingernails went into my palm.

“If you’re standing me up…”

“Brooklyn!”

Riley appeared, his face all earnest frowns. He had been in the bathroom, and emerged with the door swinging hastily shut. I looked at him. I could look nowhere else.

Tall and clean-shaven, his brown hair washed so it shone, Riley wore a dark suit and was more handsome than anyone I could imagine.

“You feel okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

He cleared his throat. “Shall we go in?”

I nodded. I stood beside him, looking up into those brown eyes. Why was I so shy, for Pete’s sake? I felt as if I really was getting married.

I looked at him and took a deep breath. We went forward to the door together, went inside.

“Mrs. Price? Mr. Robson?” the lady in the office greeted us.

“Yes,” I said through a throat that was tight with emotion. “That’s us.”

“Yes,” Riley agreed, bobbing his head. I looked sideways at him. He stopped nodding as if I’d electrocuted him.

“I’m Mrs. Knightly,” she said, looking from him to me as if wondering what on Earth was going on. “I’m going to go through the procedure with you.”

“Good,” I nodded.

As we got down to the business, I realized, belatedly, that Riley was nervous. He was shaking. He pulled his passport out so Mrs. Knightly could make a copy of it and I wanted to reach over and help him steady his hand.

I suppose I have an advantage here, I thought. I’ve actually been married. It occurred to me that I had no idea whether Riley had ever been married before. The way he was so nervous, I could only imagine he hadn’t been.

It’s okay, I wanted to say. It isn’t so scary. It’s not like we’re marrying.

But it was legally binding nonetheless. As we signed the document, his signature and mine side-by-side, the significance of what we were doing finally sank in.

We are married.

When Mrs. Knightly finished with us, handing us the copies of our documents again and offering us congratulations, I found I felt odd. Is this really happening?

“And, even though this isn’t a ceremony, I feel moved to say, you can kiss. If you want.” Mrs. Knightly giggled.

Riley and I looked at each other. He had flushed pink with embarrassment. I felt my pulse quicken. He leaned in and his lips touched mine.

It was the slightest, briefest contact, but even that made my pulse thud. I looked into his eyes as he moved back. I could see his pupils had dilated and his face was tense. I knew then that he felt it too.

Oh. I felt that knowledge shiver through me with a delicious sweetness. My heart, which had been relatively composed through the arrangement, started to thud.

“Well then,” I said. He looked at me.

“Well then.”

We both looked at the official, who gave an embarrassed giggle that suggested she would be more comfortable if we left now. I nodded.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Knightly,” I said politely. “For marrying us at such short notice.”

“Yes,” Riley added, emphatic. He inclined his head deeply. “We appreciate it.”

I glanced at him sideways. He sounded so sincere about it that I wanted to laugh. We walked out together and went to the car. My car. I unlocked the door and looked up at him and then we were both laughing.

“Come on,” I said when the laughter had died in my throat. Until that moment I had no idea what I was laughing for. Something about the solemnity of the situation, and the tension and the grave seriousness of the official had all melted together and made my mind go a bit funny. Now that we were out of there the relief was crippling for me.

“I’ll go in the van,” Riley said softly. “I’ve packed my things. See you at your house?”

“See you in about half an hour,” I agreed.

He looked into my eyes, and I felt the strange need to kiss him. It seemed like he felt it to, as he leaned down fractionally, then, abruptly, pulled away.

He went to the van and I went to my car and then we were going our separate ways back to my home.

At home, I arrived first. I went in to find Parker and her friend Stella hiding in the kitchen. Parker greeted me enthusiastically, hugging my knees.

“Mommy!” she yelled. “Can I…”

“Can Parker sleep over, Mrs. Price? Oh please?” Stella asked, speaking at the same time.

I looked down at the two little girls who looked up at me pleadingly. Stella was a pretty little girl with chestnut-brown hair and sparkly eyes. I frowned.

“Stella?” I asked. “Is your mommy okay with that?”

“Brooklyn?” Leonora called languidly from my hallway. “That you?”

“Yes, Leonora?” I asked. The tall, statuesque African woman raised a brow at me as she drifted in, then grinned at the kids.

“Stella wanted to know of Parker could come and sleep over,” Leonora said with her characteristic peacefulness. “I said that would be okay if you said yes. Do you? By the way, you look great,” she added, eyes widening as she took in my ensemble. “Job interview?”

“Not exactly,” I said, feeling suddenly awkward. I’d forgotten I’d just come back from the office. From my marriage.

“Mommy went to a party,” Parker informed her. “But only for a bit.”

“Yes,” I said, giving my daughter a dazzling smile. “And if that’s okay with you, I don’t see why not,” I agreed.

At that moment it occurred to me that if Riley arrived while Leonora was still here I would have intense explaining to do. I looked down at the little girls.

“So you two want to go now?” I asked. “Or later?”

“Now!” Parker suggested, looking hopefully at me.

“Okay.” I shrugged.

“Whee!”

The enthusiasm that broke out in the kitchen was contagious. Leonora and I grinned at each other.

“I think it’s your chicken curry,” I commented to Leonora. “She wants more of it.”

“Nonsense,” Leonora laughed at me. “Come on, girls.”

They exited the front door two minutes later. A minute after that, the rear door creaked.

“Riley?” I asked.

“Yes?”

I opened the door and he walked in. He looked into my eyes.

“Brooklyn,” he said.

“Riley.”

He stepped in. He seemed wary, at first, as if he was facing a strange wild creature that needed taming. I felt as if I was breathing through syrup.

“I wanted to tell you,” Riley said hoarsely, “you look stunning.”

I felt myself blush.

“Well, you don’t look too awful either.”

He laughed. “Well then. Thanks. I think.”

He stepped forward. I stepped forward. Our arms intertwined around each other. His body pressed to mine and our lips met. The kiss we shared here was hard and hot and passionate. His tongue stuck into my mouth and I opened my lips to let it enter. My body was on fire with need.

We held onto each other and collapsed in the sitting room on the couch, hands frantic with need, mouths sucked close.