Life in a small town. Claire sighed. For as long as she could remember, her dad had run to the doctor whenever she had a hangnail or a loose tooth. Her arrival at adulthood hadn’t changed his behavior. “Last year he thought I had Ménière’s disease after a ride on the Ferris wheel made me dizzy.”
He smiled at that. “Sam is certainly vigilant in terms of health care, that’s true. You should have seen him when you were little. I got three calls a week asking if such-and-such was normal. Things like three sneezes in a row would set him off. Nonetheless, that doesn’t mean he’s a fool. Do the headaches seem to be triggered by your cycles?”
“I’m thirty-five,” she said with a laugh. “It seems like I’m always ovulating or flowing. So, yeah, maybe.”
“Did you ever start exercising?”
“Ever? Ninth grade was a good year for me. I went out for track and volleyball.”
He wrote something in her chart. Probably couch potato.
“Are you sleeping well?”
“Like a baby. Since I met Bobby …” She blushed again. “Well, you know. I sleep great.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Stress?”
“I’m a single mother who is about to get married for the first time. The sister I barely know is planning the wedding, and my mother is threatening to come. So, yes, I’m a little stressed out.”
“Okay. Tell your dad I said everything is fine. No worries. But get some exercise. It’s the best treatment for stress. Also, you’re a little anemic again. That can cause headaches, too. So start taking some iron, okay?”
“You got it.”
“Now get that beautiful little girl of yours home and start doing that woman-wedding thing. The whole town is looking forward to it.”
“That’s what happens when you wait fifteen years after everyone else in your class.”
“You were only moments away from being labeled the town spinster. I don’t know who Bess and Tina will worry about now.” His eyes sparkled behind the small round glasses.
“Thanks, Doc.”
He patted her shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Claire. We all are.”
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
The afternoon turned gray and cold. Rain fell in tiny staccato bursts that were all but invisible to the naked eye.
Claire spent the rest of the day pretending to work.
“Go home, Claire,” her father said to her whenever he happened to walk into the office and see her.
“I’ve got work to do,” was her standard answer, and every time she said it, he laughed.
“Yeah. You’re a big help today. Go take a bath. Do your nails.”
She was too nervous to take a bath or do her nails. Thirty-five was too old to marry for the first time. How could she possibly be doing the right thing?
But every time her worries threatened to overwhelm her, she’d turn a corner or open a door and see Bobby. He was painting the fence around the laundry room the first time she saw him, scrubbing canoes the second.
He’d looked up at her approach both times. Hey, darlin’, he’d said, smiling. I love you.
Just that, those few and precious words, and Claire breathed easier again, for an hour or so, until the doubts once again welled up.
Finally, at around three in the afternoon, she gave up and walked back to her house. Toys lay scattered on the grass in the front yard; a Barbie that was half dressed, a pink plastic bucket and tiny shovel, a red Fisher-Price barn, complete with farm animals. She picked everything up and headed for the house.
“There you are,” Meghann said when she walked in.
“Hey,” she said, sighing as she walked over to the toy box and dumped her load in.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She certainly didn’t want to discuss her wedding jitters with Miss Prenup.
Meghann got up. Claire could feel her sister’s gaze; it was lawyerly and intense. Not a sister-to-sister look at all. “I was just going to have some iced tea. Would you like one?”
“A margarita would be better.”
“You got it. Sit.”
Claire sank onto the sofa and put her feet up on the magazine-covered coffee table.
Meg was back in no time, holding two glasses. “Here you are.”
Claire took the glass and tried the margarita. “This is good. Thanks.”
Meg sat in the bentwood rocker by the fireplace. “You’re scared,” she said gently.
Claire jumped as if she’d been shouted at. “Anyone would be.” She took another drink, careful not to make eye contact. She felt like a squirrel in the presence of a cobra.
Meg moved to the sofa and sat down beside Claire. “It’s normal, believe me. If you weren’t scared right now, I’d take your pulse.”
“You think I should be scared.”
“I remember when Elizabeth and Jack got married. They were as in love as any two people I’ve ever seen. And she still needed two martinis to walk down the aisle. Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid, Claire. Maybe that’s why weddings take place in churches—because each one is an act of faith.”
“I love him.”
“I know you do.”
“But I should sign a prenuptial agreement to protect my assets in case we get divorced.”
“I’m a lawyer. Protecting people is what I do.”
“You protect strangers. Members of your family are a different thing.”