The Manning Grooms

“You can’t blame Summer for that.”



“I don’t,” James remarked tartly. “I blame myself. In retrospect I realize I was afraid of losing her. So I insisted on the marriage before she could change her mind.”



“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with Ralph,” Walter muttered.



“Ralph thinks Summer’s too young for me.”



“Nonsense.”



“He also seems to think I’ve done myself harm by not letting everyone know immediately that I was married. Bringing Summer here to live with me now, pregnant, and saying we’ve been married all along, is apparently too convenient to believe.”



“It’s the truth.”



“You and I know that, but there’s already speculation.”



“So? People will always talk. Let them. But you’ve got to do something about getting this campaign organized. There are worse things you could be accused of than marrying in secret or getting Summer pregnant before your wedding day. As far as I’m concerned, Southworth’s looking for excuses.”



“I refuse to subject Summer to that kind of speculation,” James said stubbornly.



“Have you talked this over with her?”



“Not yet…”



“You haven’t?”



“I know, I know.” The defeatist attitude was back in James’s voice. “I’ve put it off longer than I should have.”



After that, Summer didn’t hear much more of the conversation between father and son. Their marriage had hurt her husband; it might have robbed him of his dreams, cheated him out of his goals.



The phone rang long before she had time to gather her thoughts. “I’ll get it,” she called out to James, and reached for the extension in the kitchen. Her hand trembled as she lifted the receiver.



“Hello,” she said, her voice weak.



“Hello,” came the soft feminine reply. “You don’t know me. My name’s Christy Manning Franklin.”



“Christy…Manning?” Summer said, stunned. She hadn’t recovered from one shock before she was hit with another. “Just a moment. I’ll get James.”



“No, please. It’s you I want to talk to.”



“Me?”



“From your reaction, I’d guess James has mentioned me.”



“Yes.” Summer slumped down in a chair and closed her eyes. “You and James were engaged at one time.”



“That’s right. I understand you and James recently got married.”



“Three months ago,” Summer said, embarrassed by how weak her voice still was. “In Las Vegas,” she added a little more loudly.



“I hope you’ll forgive me for being so forward. I talked it over with Cody—he’s my husband—and he said since I felt so strongly about it I should call you.”



“So strongly about what?”



“About you…and James. I’ll always regret the way I treated James. He deserved a lot better, but I was younger then. Immature in some ways. At one time I thought I was in love with him. I knew he loved me, and my family thought the world of him. Then I met Cody.” She hesitated. “I didn’t phone to tell you all this. I’m sure James filled in the details.”



“Why did you call?” Summer was sure that under other circumstances she might have liked Christy Franklin.



“I wanted to tell you how happy I am that James found someone to love. I know it’s presumptuous of me but I wanted to ask a favor of you.”



“A favor?” The woman had a lot of nerve.



“Love him with all your heart, Summer. James is a special, special man and he deserves a woman who’ll stand by his side and love him.”



“I do,” she said softly.



“For quite a while I despaired of James ever getting married. I can’t tell you how pleased I was when Mom phoned to tell me Rich and Jamie had met you. Cody and I want to extend our very best wishes to you both.”



“Thank you.”



“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I do hope you’ll keep Cody and me in mind when you count your friends. There’s a place in my heart for James. He’s been a friend to our family for years. He was a tremendous help to Paul when Diane died, and again later when he married Leah. James helped Rich and Jamie, too, and he’s been a good friend to Jason and Charlotte, as well. We’re all indebted to him one way or another.”



“I do love him so much.” She was fighting back tears and not even sure what she was crying about. The fact that Ralph Southworth had resigned as James’s campaign manager because of her? Or that James’s ex-fiancée still cared for him deeply?



Summer had just replaced the receiver when James stepped into the kitchen. He stood with one hand on the door.



“Who was that on the phone?” he asked.



Summer met his look straight on, waiting to read any emotion. “Christy Franklin.”



“Christy?” he repeated. “What did she want?” He looked more surprised than anything.



“She called to give us her and Cody’s best wishes. She said it was high time you were married and she can hardly wait to meet me.”



“Really?”



“Really.”



“And what did you tell her?”



Summer grinned. “I said she’s to keep her cotton-pickin’ hands off my husband.”



James chuckled, obviously delighted by her possessive attitude. “You aren’t going to get much of an argument from me.”



“Good thing,” she said, and slid her arm around his waist. Together they joined his father.



“I don’t understand it,” Summer muttered. She sucked in her stomach in order to close her skirt. “I can barely zip this up. It fit fine just last week.”



“Honey, you’re pregnant,” James said matter-of-factly.



“Three months. I’m not supposed to show yet.”



“You’re not?” James’s eyes left the mirror, his face covered with shaving cream. He carefully examined her rounded belly.



“Tell me the truth, James. If you were meeting me for the first time, would you guess I was pregnant?”



He frowned. “This isn’t one of those trick questions, is it?”



“No.”



“All right,” he said, then cleared his throat. He seemed to know intuitively that she wasn’t going to like the answer. “You do look pregnant to me. But then you are pregnant, so I don’t understand what the big deal is.”



“I’m fat already,” she wailed, and felt like breaking into tears.



“Fat is not the word I’d use to describe you.”



“If I’m showing at three months, can you just imagine what I’ll look like at nine?”



His grin revealed pride and love. “I’d say you’ll look like the most beautiful woman in the world.”



“No wonder I love you so much,” she told her husband, turning back to the closet. She sorted through the hangers, dismissing first one outfit and then another.



“Where are you going that you’re so worried about how you look?” James asked.



Summer froze. “An appointment.” She prayed he wouldn’t question her further. She’d arranged a meeting with Ralph Southworth, but she didn’t want James to know about it.



“Okay. Don’t forget tonight,” he reminded her. “We’re going to the Mannings’ for dinner.”



“I won’t forget,” she promised. “Eric and Elizabeth, right?”



“Right. Knowing Elizabeth, she’ll probably spend the whole day cooking. She’s called me at least five times in the past week. She’s anxious to meet you.”



“I’m anxious to meet them, too.” But not nearly as anxious as she was about this meeting with Southworth. In setting up the appointment, Summer hoped to achieve several objectives. Mainly she wanted Ralph to agree to manage James’s campaign again. And she wanted to prove to James that he didn’t need to protect her from gossip and speculation.



James left for court shortly after he’d finished shaving. Summer changed into the outfit she’d finally chosen, a soft gray business suit with a long jacket that—sort of—disguised her pregnancy. She spent the morning doing errands and arrived at Ralph’s office at the Seattle Bank ten minutes ahead of their one-o’clock appointment.



She announced her name to the receptionist and was escorted into Southworth’s office a few minutes later.



Ralph stood when she entered the room. He didn’t seem pleased to see her.



“Hello again,” she said brightly, taking the chair across from his desk. She wanted it understood that she wouldn’t be easily dissuaded.



“Hello,” he responded curtly.



“I hope you don’t object to my making an appointment to see you. I’m afraid I may have, uh, misled your secretary into thinking it had to do with a loan.”



“I see. Are you in the habit of misleading people?”



“Not at all,” she assured him with a cordial smile, “but sometimes a little inventive thinking is worth a dozen frustrating phone calls.”



Southworth didn’t agree or disagree.



“I’ll get to the point of my visit,” she said, not wanting to waste time, his or hers.



“Please do.”



“I’d like to know why you’ve resigned as my husband’s campaign manager.”



Southworth rolled a pencil between his palms, avoiding eye contact. “I believe that’s between James and me. It has nothing to do with you.”



“That isn’t the way I understand it,” she said, grateful he’d opened the conversation for her. “I overheard James and his father talking recently, and James said something different.”



“So you eavesdrop, as well?”



He was certainly eager to tally her less than sterling characteristics.



“Yes, but in this case, I’m glad I did because I learned that you’d resigned because of me.”



Southworth hesitated. “Not exactly. I questioned James’s judgment.”



“About our marriage?” she pressed.



Once again he seemed inclined to dodge the subject. “I don’t really think…”



“I do, Mr. Southworth. This election is extremely important to James. You’re extremely important to him. When he first mentioned your name to me, he said you were the best man for the job.”



“I am the best man for the job.” The banker certainly didn’t lack confidence in his abilities. “I also know a losing battle when I see it.”



“Why’s that?”



“Mrs. Wilkens, please.”



“Please what, Mr. Southworth? Tell me why you question James’s judgment. Until he married me, you were ready to lend him your full support. I can assure you I’ll stay right here until I have the answers to these questions.” She raised her chin a stubborn half inch and refused to budge.



“If you insist…”



“I do.”



“First, you’re years younger than James.”