Marriage By Necessity. Marisa Carroll
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with me and Grandpa Tom.” Arlene smoothed her hand indulgently over Becca’s fine, flyaway curls as she spoke.
“Still hungry,” Becca insisted.
“Why don’t you come in and wait for Nate,” Sarah offered, stepping back from the open door, then wished she hadn’t when she saw Arlene’s smile disappear. The words and gesture must have seemed too much like an invitation to a home that wasn’t her own. “I…I’m sure he’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“I’m here now,” Nate said coming up onto the deck that served as his front porch. It was roomy, stained silvery-gray to match the outside of the mobile home. The color scheme inside was predominately gray, too. Nate had painted all the paneling a creamy white above, and charcoal below. The carpet was the color of smoke, as was the overstuffed sofa and recliner that, along with a couple of lamps and tables and a big-screen TV, were the only furniture in the living room. The kitchen appliances were stainless steel, the countertops faux black granite. Even the built-in banquette, whose back contained open shelving that separated the living and kitchen areas, was upholstered in gray vinyl.
Those shelves were mostly empty, Sarah had noticed right away. There weren’t any knickknacks on the tables or pictures on the walls. Nate had never liked clutter, she remembered. She, on the other hand, loved light and color, and liked to cover every surface with all manner of odd or pretty things she picked up at flea markets and yard sales. They used to argue over her pack-rat tendencies, but like everything they had fallen out about, they’d always ended their disagreement by making up and making love. The strength and clarity of the memory caught her by surprise. She hadn’t thought about sex in months and months. Had figured she would never think about it again, but apparently she’d been wrong.
“Nate, what’s this all about?” Arlene’s voice demanded attention. “What’s she doing here? What’s going on?”
NATE SAW the stricken look on Sarah’s face and knew the reason for it. The old saw about little pitchers having big ears might be a cliché, but it was also right on the money. Matty and Becca were staring at the adults with intense interest.
“Hey, Becca Boo Jones. What are you doing here?”
She held out her arms, a naked Barbie in each hand. “Hi, Unca Nate.”
“Aren’t your dollies cold?” Nate knew the dolls had clothes. He’d spent a ridiculous amount of money outfitting one for Becca’s birthday last spring. He dropped stiffly to one knee wincing at the pain in his bad ankle. She gave him a big hug, poking him in the ribs with Barbie arms, squinching up her face with the effort.
“Whoa,” he said. “That’s a good one.”
“I want toast.” She loosened her grip a little. “So does that boy.” Her tone dripped with suspicion. She pointed a Barbie in Matty’s direction. “Why’s he here?”
“He and Sarah are staying with me for awhile. Sarah, would you make Becca and Matty some toast while I explain what’s happening to Mom?”
Sarah gave him a grateful look. “C’mon, Becca. Do you like jelly on your toast?”
“No,” Becca said firmly. “Cin’mon sweetie.”
“She means cinnamon sugar. There’s a shaker of the stuff in the first cupboard on the left. I keep it especially for this little monster.” Nate gave Becca a gentle little push. “Go on inside. You’re letting out all the warm air.”
Becca hesitated. “Where are you going, Grandma?” she asked.
“Just to the barn…to look at the motorcycle. We’ll be back before you’re done eating your toast.”
“Okay.” She stood nose to nose with Sarah’s son. “You want to play with me?”
Matty eyed the dolls with disapproval. “Not with dolls,” he said with disdain. “Where’s their clothes? It’s cold outside.”
“My dog ate them,” Becca said. “And then he throwed them up. My mom throwed up, too, when she had to clean up the mess. She’s going to have a baby. A boy. Right after Santa Claus comes. Right, Grandma?”
“New Year’s Day,” Arlene confirmed.
“That’s nice.” Sarah put her hand on Becca’s shoulder and urged her inside.
“I’d rather have a sister,” Becca said as the door closed behind them.
“What’s going on, Nate?” Arlene asked, turning to face him. She made no move to leave the deck. She pushed her hands into the pocket of her fleece jacket and waited.
“We were coming over this morning to tell you and Dad about the situation.” Arlene had her own insurance business with an office off the kitchen of the house he’d grown up in. Her hours were flexible so she was sometimes available for spur-of-the-moment babysitting for Becca, or his other sister Joann’s two boys. His younger brother, Brandon, was in graduate school out of state, and in no hurry to add more leaves to the family tree.
“Situation? I don’t like the sound of that. Anyway, your dad’s at the doctor. He’s getting some blood tests done.” Tom Fowler was a Vietnam vet and a man of solid values and modest aspirations. He worked at a plant across the state line in Ohio that manufactured knock-down furniture. He was shift foreman now and counting the days until his retirement.
“Cholesterol up again?”
“Yes, but don’t try and change the subject. Your dad’s blood tests are beside the point. Tell me what all this is about.” There was a note of pleading in his mother’s voice. It surprised him. Arlene Fowler tended to demand rather than plead.
Nate cleared his throat. “Sarah and I are getting married again.”
“Married?” She sagged against the deck railing. “Oh, Lord. Nate, have you lost your senses? You haven’t seen or spoken to each other for four years. And she has a child.” She blinked hard. “Another man’s child—”
Nate didn’t want to hear that phrase again. “Sarah’s very ill. She may be dying.”
She stared at him for a moment with her mouth open in shock. “Dying? Are you sure?”
“I talked to her doctor yesterday.” He leaned his hands on the railing and stared out over the lake as he told his mother everything that had happened in the last thirty-six hours. He wasn’t sure he had all the medical terms right but he did his best to explain. The doctor hadn’t been as pessimistic as Sarah that she wouldn’t survive the surgery, but the prognosis hadn’t been encouraging. “There’s no way to know for certain without cutting her open if the growth has progressed beyond the point of no return.”
“I…I had no idea.” Arlene fumbled in the pockets of her coat, looking for the cigarettes she’d given up over a year ago. “But Nate, surely there’s some other way? The boy’s father?”
“Dead,” he said flatly.
“Oh, Lord. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
“How could you?”
“No, I guess I couldn’t know. I’m ashamed to say I never answered her last couple of letters, or made any effort to stay in touch.” She lifted her hands in a helpless little gesture. “That can’t be changed now. I…I have to admit I’ve wondered off and on how she was doing the last couple of years, but I never suspected anything like this. How long has she been widowed?”
“Since before Matty was born.”
“And her husband had no family, either?”
“None that can help her. She’s as alone in the world as she ever was. That’s why I’ve agreed to take responsibility for Matty.”
“Oh, Nate.” Arlene covered her mouth with her hand for a moment. “I know how much you used to love her, but to do this for a woman who broke your heart.”
“What