Society Wives: Secret Lives. Patricia Kay
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I’m asking you to be my wife, Lily. Will you wear it? For me? For our baby?
Opening her eyes, she stared down at the ring again. She had wondered many times how she would feel on this day. A wonderful man, a man who was handsome, kind and generous, a man of integrity, had asked her to be his wife. He’d slid an heirloom ring on her finger and asked her to marry him.
She should be happy. Her baby was going to have everything she could ever have wanted for it—a loving father, a real family. Her child would never be lonely or alone.
She thought of all that the ring symbolized. It didn’t feel the way she had thought it would, Lily realized, and swiped at the tears sliding down her cheek. Instead of feeling happy, she felt sadder than she had in a long time.
How could you have been so foolish, Lily? After all these years how could you let yourself get sucked in by the fairy tale?
Because that was just what she had done, she admitted. Sensible, practical Lily Miller, the woman who had lived her life without blinders, the woman who never deluded herself, had done just that. She had thought that when this day happened, when a man placed a ring on her finger and asked her to be his wife, that the man who had put it there would have done so because he loved her.
Five
“While Johanna has made considerable progress since she first started counseling at Eastwick Cares, she continues to exhibit trust issues,” Lily said as she dictated notes from her last session. “These trust issues are most likely rooted in her sense of abandonment following her parents’ divorce.”
She’d seen it dozens of times, Lily admitted as she looked over her case notes. Too often when a couple divorced it was the children who came away with the most scars. She’d lost count of the times that children like twelve-year-old Johanna Stevenson blamed themselves. And as the family unit dissolved and the parents spent less and less time with their children in order to resume their own social lives, the children lost their sense of security. As a result, children like Johanna Stevenson felt unwanted, unloved and in the way.
Lily thought of her baby and knew she didn’t want her child ever to feel that way. It was the reason she and Jack had agreed to get married in the first place—to provide their baby with a family. Unlike her, her child would grow up knowing it was loved, feeling secure.
“Knock, knock,” Felicity Farnsworth said as she stuck her head inside the door. “Oh, good. I was hoping I’d catch you before you left for lunch,” she said and breezed inside carrying a white zippered dress bag.
“Felicity, I wasn’t expecting you,” Lily told her as she stood.
“I know you weren’t, but I left you a couple of messages and when I didn’t hear back from you, I figured you were too busy to come to me. So I decided to come to you instead.”
“I’m sorry. I did get your messages, but I’ve been kind of busy,” Lily offered even though that was only half true. She hadn’t called primarily because she felt like a fraud having Jack and his family going to so much trouble when the marriage wasn’t a real one.
“Not a problem,” Felicity told her, her green eyes lighting up her face. Once again dressed in black, she had a bright blue butterfly pin perched on her shoulder. A smaller version was anchored in her choppy blond hair. She smiled. “That’s why you hired me—to take care of all the details for you. And this,” she said, indicating the garment bag that bore the name of a bridal boutique, “is a very important detail.”
“Felicity,” Lily began. “Now’s not a good time. I have another appointment due in fifteen minutes.”
“Then I promise to be out of here in ten. I just need you to try this on and see if you like it. It’s your wedding dress.”
“But I don’t need a wedding dress.” The truth is she hadn’t given a thought to buying one. She had just planned on wearing the pale yellow linen suit she’d bought for Easter.
“Every bride needs a wedding dress. And since you’re too busy to shop for one, I picked out one I thought you might like.” She hung the bag on the back of the door and began unzipping it.
“Really, Felicity. This isn’t necessary. I hardly fit the picture of the blushing bride,” Lily reminded her, keenly aware of her protruding stomach.
“Nonsense,” Felicity told her. “If only virgin brides were allowed to wear wedding gowns, there would be very few wedding gowns sold,” she informed her and removed the dress from the bag.
It was beautiful, Lily thought as she stared at the ivory-colored silk gown. The style was simple. The off-the-shoulder neckline had small silken rosettes at each shoulder. The bodice was fitted, then formed an Empire-style waistline that fell to the floor and would conceal her swollen middle.
“I had to guess at the size,” Felicity said as she held the dress up to Lily. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Lily said and ran her fingers along the fabric. Then she spied the tag sewn into the dress—Vera Wang—and sucked in a breath. She might not know a Vera Wang from a vintage Dior, but what she did know was that both were very, very expensive. “Felicity, I can’t possibly wear this.”
Felicity’s expression fell. “But I thought you liked it.”
“I do like it. In fact, I love it. It’s one of the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. But I can’t afford it.”
“Oh, that,” she said, waving aside the comment. A smile spread across her face “It’s already been taken care of.”
Lily frowned. “What do you mean it’s been taken care of?” she asked, even though she suspected she knew—Jack had been the one to take care of it.
“Mrs. Cartwright had the bill sent to her.”
It didn’t matter whether it had been Jack or his mother, Lily thought. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I know she means well, but I couldn’t possibly let her pay for it. And since I can’t afford it, I’ll just wear something of my own.”
Felicity sobered. “Lily, I understand you wanting to pay your own way. Really, I do. I was married once and I went through some rough times financially when it ended. It took me a long time to get back on my feet and I had to do it on my own. So I know all about the need to feel independent and responsible for yourself.”
“So you understand why I can’t possibly accept the gown.”
“What I understand is that you’re marrying a very wealthy man and into a very wealthy family. The Cartwrights have a position within the Eastwick community. Whether it’s fair or not, people expect a certain level of style from them.”
Lily felt a tightening in her chest. “And I certainly don’t fit the profile of a wife for Jack Cartwright.”
“You do as far as he’s concerned. I think you could wear a fig leaf and that man would be happy. In fact, he might like it better if you came in a fig leaf.”
Lily laughed, as she was sure Felicity meant her to do. “A fig leaf I can afford.”
“But I’m not sure his family would be thrilled with the choice,” Felicity pointed out.
“So what am I supposed to do? Just let Sandra spend a fortune on a dress for me?”
“No. You’re supposed to let the mother of the man you’re going to marry feel that she did something special for you. I know it may seem superficial, but appearances are important to her. She wants to make you feel like you’re one of them. And this is her way of doing it. It’s important to her that she does this for you. It makes her feel like she’s a part of things, that she’s not losing her son.”
Lily could feel herself relenting. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about embarrassing Jack or herself by wearing something that was too common