I Do, I Do . . . Again Read online

  ***

  It was ten-thirty when Robert pulled into his driveway. He was tired, hungry, and generally in a lousy mood, but the moment he saw Sunny's VW parked next to him, his lousy mood vanished. That was all it took. That ridiculous twenty year old beater with two hundred thousand miles under the hood was enough to make him forget everything but the woman he loved.

  And the best thing about it, he thought as he walked up the path to the front door, was that this was only the beginning. With Sunny back in his life, he felt as if he were eighteen again when everything was possible as long as she was by his side.

  She was dozing in the family room, curled up on the sofa with her head pillowed on one of his old sweaters. Her wild mane of red hair was spread out across her face and shoulders, the curls tumbling across her cheeks like living fire. She wore faded jeans and a baggy green sweater with Elvis Presley's face emblazoned front and back. If someone had told him a year ago that he'd fall in love with a woman who wore Elvis sweaters, he would have laughed out loud. But this was Sunny. It didn't matter if she papered her walls with pictures of the King or believed he was alive and well and living in Wasilla with the Palins.

  He sat down on the arm of the sofa and touched her cheek. She stirred, her body arching with almost feline grace. Her brow furrowed slightly then her lids fluttered open.

  "Robert." She sat up, tugging at the edge of her sweater where it had ridden up over her flat stomach. "Those band videos could cure the worst case of insomnia. How long have you been home?"

  "Not long." He leaned over and kissed her mouth, still warm from sleep. "Szechuan?"

  Her chuckle was sleepy and unbearably sexy. "I could never love a man who didn't love Chinese food."

  He glanced around the room. "Is Michael asleep?"

  "He nodded off after dinner. I tucked him in around eight."

  "Where's Jessi?"

  "Upstairs." Sunny paused a moment. "She had to study."

  He gave her what he hoped was a wicked grin. "So we're all alone."

  The look she gave him could raise the dead. "We're all alone."

  He held out his hand and she stood up. "Come here," he said gruffly. "We haven't had a hell of a lot of time for this lately."

  An instant later she was in his arms. Her fingers worked the buttons on his shirt until it fell open. She trailed her fingernails gently across his bare chest then raised up on tiptoe to press her lips to his skin. A shudder rocketed through him as her tongue found his flat nipple. Hot. Wet. Incredibly--

  "Daddy!" They leaped apart at the sound of Jessi's voice behind them. Sunny felt her face flame with embarrassment. "You must be starving."

  "Hi, sweetheart." Robert winked at her then turned to greet his daughter with a kiss on the forehead. "Sunny said you were doing your homework."

  "Oh, I finished that ages ago.."

  Score one for you, Jessi, Sunny thought.

  "I can heat up the veggie stew for you in two seconds," Jessi went on, pretending Sunny was back in New Hope where she clearly belonged. "We have decaf soda, if you want."

  "That sounds great, sweetheart, but I picked up something on the way home." He pointed toward a brown paper bag sitting on the foyer table. "Meatball hero."

  Jessi turned and ran back upstairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

  Robert stared after her. "Did I say something wrong?"

  "It's a long story," said Sunny, torn between laughter and tears for the second time that day. "Eat first. I'll tell you about it later."

  Robert made short work of both meatball heroes, then devoured a bowl of vegetable stew to make Jessi happy. Sunny nursed a mug of tea and nibbled at a fortune cookie. Good things come to those that wait, the white paper slip read. She could only hope that fortune cookies knew more about stepdaughters than she did.

  Robert had wanted to go upstairs and read Jessi the riot act for running from the room before, but Sunny had convinced him that that would only make things worse. There was little enough in life that you could control when you were twelve years old. Sunny's heart went out to the girl, but that didn't mean the situation was any less puzzling.

  After he finished dinner, they loaded the dishwasher then settled back in the den on the sofa.

  "Believe it or not, we had another wedding emergency this afternoon," she said, drawing her legs up under her and nestling close.

  "Your mother hates our wedding rings and decided to pan for gold herself."

  She was too tired to laugh. "Battling florists." She kissed his shoulder, then rested her head against him. "Mother is on a quest for the fanciest buds in the western hemisphere and she refuses to let common sense enter into it. If she could import them from Mars, she would." She lifted her head to look at him. "Do you have any idea what stephanotis looks like?"

  "I'm still working on freesia."

  "Even I know freesia. I have until tomorrow morning to decide if I want a nosegay, a loose cascade, or a cluster."

  "How about a bouquet?"

  "Those are bouquets."

  "How about a dozen long-stemmed roses with a ribbon tied around them?"

  "Higher education wasn't wasted on you, Mr. Holland," she said dryly.

  "I think I have something that'll make this whole thing easier on us." He reached for his briefcase and extracted a thumb drive. "One of the paralegals gave me this. It's a checklist program designed specifically for weddings. It claims to make it categorically impossible for anyone to forget anything from engagement to honeymoon."

  "A tad anal-retentive, don't you think?"

  "Whatever gets you through the night. It's no worse than pasting Post-It notes on every available surface."

  "I resent that. At least you don't need electricity and a machine to use them." Sunny had a particular affinity for Post-It notes. "Besides, I'm not computer literate."

  "Jessi is."

  Sunny's face lit up. "Maybe that's not such a bad idea after all. It might make Jessi feel more like a part of things." She leaped to her feet. "Why don't I see if she's awake. We could--"

  "No, we couldn't." He pulled her down onto his lap and held her fast.

  "It's not that late, Robby. She'd probably get a kick out of showing us how to use the software."

  He kissed her quiet. "I don't want to talk about software."

  "Oh, really? What do you want to talk about?"

  His answer was earthy.

  Her response was immediate. She dipped her mouth to his. Her lips were soft, pliable, surprisingly demanding. For a long, delicious moment they forgot all about fittings and flowers and blended families--they forgot everything but the sense of wonder that had brought them to this time and this place.

  "Let's lock the door," he growled into her ear. "You be quiet and I guarantee I'll be fast."

  She was tempted but held her ground. "Not until we get married," she said, touching his mouth with the tip of her index finger. "At least, not here."

  "Three weeks, four days, ten hours and fifty-five minutes," he said. "Not that I'm counting."

  "There are other ways to pass the time," Sunny said, wishing the wedding were tomorrow.

  "Name one."

  She ticked them off on her fingers. "Choosing a band for the reception. Deciding on what style bouquet I should carry. Buying gifts for the attendants." She met his eyes. "Shall I go on?"

  "Is romance anywhere on that list?"

  "Romance?" She laughed. "That's the one thing engaged couples don't have time for. I thought you knew that."

  "We should have eloped again."

  "Once we're married, we'll have all the time for romance that we could possibly want."

  "I'm going to hold you to that."

  "You'd better." She reached for the remote control and switched on the DVD player. The strains of the Jack B. Quick Dance Band playing the Hawaiian Wedding Song on accordions filled the air.

  "You're kidding," said Robert. He paused. "Aren't you?"

  "It gets better." She winced as the lead s
inger hit a sour note. "Trust me."

  "How many more bands are there?"

  "Six, if you don't count Maeve McLaughlin's Irish Rovers."

  "What's wrong with Maeve's Irish Rovers?"

  "They play bagpipes on roller skates while singing Endless Love."

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Four

  A man and woman meet. They fall in love. They get married.

  What could be easier?

  The answer was: just about anything.

  By the time the wedding was one week away, Sunny was thoroughly convinced that plans for D-Day had been simpler. "The Pentagon missed out on a natural resource when they let you two slip through their fingers," said Sunny over lunch Saturday afternoon with Robert and their respective mothers.

  "I don't know why organization amazes everyone the way it does." Millie's smile was exceedingly self-satisfied. "Do you, Olivia?"

  Olivia Holland consulted her ever-present iPad. "I haven't a clue. Orderliness is the sign of a superior intellect."

  Sunny would have laughed at the hubris displayed by both her mother and her future mother-in-law, but there was something terribly impressive about their twin iPads with duplicate information neatly stored under headings like Florist, Videographer, Seating Arrangements, and Fabric Samples. The two women had color-coded their calendars, scanned floor plans of the church, and obtained sheet music for the Trumpet Voluntary. They would probably choreograph the honeymoon if Sunny and Robert would let them.

  "And you said the wedding software was anal-retentive?" Robert muttered under his breath. She kicked him lightly in the shin.

  "Who's picking Aunt Carol up at the airport?" Sunny asked, nibbling at her chef's salad, eyes wide and innocent.

  "Your brother Jack," said Millie.

  "Is she bringing Angela?"

  "Who's Angela?" Robert asked Sunny.

  "My ancient aunt's extremely ancient Siamese cat."

  Robert looked up from his cheeseburger. "She's bringing a cat to the wedding?"

  "Of course she's not bringing a cat to the wedding." Millie Talbot looked at him as if she wondered how he'd made it through law school.

  "Everyone else seems to be coming to this wedding," Sunny remarked. "Why shouldn't Angela?"

  "Carol's neighbor is going to watch Angela," Millie said tartly with a pointed glance at Olivia, her partner in crime.

  "Thank God for that," muttered Sunny. "Otherwise you'd need a folder in your iPads for cat sitters."

  Millie shot her a look that would have sent Sunny running to her room twenty years ago. Robert, however, laughed so hard that other diners turned to stare.

  "Robert!" Olivia slapped him on the forearm with her pale blue linen napkin. "Stop that this instant."

  "Where's your sense of humor, Mom?" he asked, still laughing. "You know as well as we do that this whole thing has gotten out of hand."

  Olivia turned to Millie. "Have you any idea what on earth the boy is talking about?"

  Millie shook her head. "Not the slightest."

  The two matrons leveled their best maternal looks on their recalcitrant children but to no avail.

  "Come on, Mom!" said Sunny, winking at Robert. "You know darned well you'd categorize my underwear if I let you get your hands on it."

  "She's right about that," Olivia conceded to their surprise. "I've seen her making copies of copies of the dinner menu."

  "You can't be too careful," said Millie with apologies to no one. "I've waited thirty-three years to plan a wedding for my oldest daughter. It's going to be perfect or I'll know the reason why."

  "It would serve you right if we eloped."

  Millie's gasp could be heard in Ohio. "Over my dead body!"

  Sunny felt instantly chastened by her mother's vehement response. "I'm only kidding, Mom," she said, hugging the shaken woman. "I promise you we won't elope again."

  Millie struggled to regain her composure. "Your brother's a policeman," she said sternly. "I have a good mind to ask him to put you in protective custody until your dad walks you down the aisle."

  Sunny didn't dare admit that there had been the tiniest nugget of truth in her teasing threat to elope. Over the past few days she had felt overwhelmed by the avalanche of details surrounding the nuptials. R.S.V.P.'s. Logging wedding presents. Fielding telephone calls from cousins and friends and business associates, all of whom were eager to set up a lunch or dinner with the "happy couple." She found herself longing for a moment to stop and catch her breath--or to spend alone with Robert without one single wedding-related task to be accomplished.

  Olivia withdrew her gold compact from her handbag and checked her lipstick in the mirror. "Would you two do me a favor?"

  Sunny looked at Robert who shrugged his agreement.

  Olivia clicked shut her compact and slid it back into her handbag. "Would you run by Robert's house and pick up the sheet music for the organist? I believe it's in the living room near the piano. Mrs. DeBenedetto must have it by tonight so she can practice."

  ***

  A half hour later Robert pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. Why he'd found it necessary to explore every side road between the restaurant and home was beyond her. She'd forgotten how stubborn men could be about admitting they were lost. He'd turned a five minute drive into an excursion. "You get the sheet music," he said, an odd smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I want to check the oil."

  "Check the oil?" She felt his forehead. "You must be running a fever. I haven't seen you check the oil since you were in high school."

  "Just get the sheet music," he said, leaning over and opening up the passenger car.

  Strange, she thought, glancing about as she walked up the path to the front door. Usually she had to step over a tangle of bicycles and assorted toys, but today the yard was immaculately neat. Michael must be spending the afternoon with his pal Seth, turning the Petersons' front yard into an outlet of Toys R Us.

  She let herself in the front door with the key Robert had given her the night they became engaged. "Jessi! Are you home? I--"

  "Surprise!!"

  She stopped dead in the doorway and stared at the crowd of happy, smiling people adrift in a cloud of pastel balloons and crepe paper. "I can't believe it," she said, starting to laugh. "A shower! You're giving me a bridal shower!" She heard the merry beep of the horn as Robert beat a rapid retreat to higher ground.

  Marcy, her youngest sister, stepped forward. She was dressed like Ginger Spice. "Welcome back to the 1990s," she said, patting her mall hair. "You cheated us out of all the fun last time, but this time you're not going to escape. We're going to give you the shower of your teenage dreams!"

  That was putting it mildly. From the "wishing well" covered in white tissue paper to the organdy lace umbrella fastened to the back of the bride's "throne," her family and friends had managed to recreate every bridal shower Sunny had attended in the last fifteen years. Even the presents were a trip back in time: Tupperware lettuce savers, two toasters, one hand-crocheted toilet paper cover. The lacy lingerie, however, was timeless.

  "Not the bonnet," she said, laughing as Olivia--the height of blue blooded propriety--sat on the floor attaching discarded ribbons and bows to a white paper plate.

  "You know I'm a stickler for tradition," said Olivia, her eyes dancing with laughter.

  Sunny turned to Jessi who was seated on the far end of the sofa, a stiff smile on her face.

  "Did you ever think you'd see your elegant grandmother pinning ribbons to a plate?"

  "No." One word. No expression. Dead end.

  Sunny, however, was as stubborn as her future daughter. She rose from her throne and approached the girl. "I could use some help with all those presents," she said softly. "Maybe if you would sit next to me, we could--"

  "I like it here," said Jessi.

  Sunny reached out to touch the girl's shoulder then caught herself. Everything about Jessi's body language said don't touch. This wasn't the time to p
ush the issue, not with both families there watching.

  "Well, thank heavens the shower was here. At least we don't have to lug all of this loot back home again."

  Jessi forced a smile that stopped short of her eyes.

  ***

  Two hours later the last of the presents had been opened and duly admired, the wishing well gifts had been giggled over, and Sunny had been subjected to the embarrassment of wearing the bonnet of bows her mother-in-law had labored over. Her own mother seemed to be everywhere, darting from living room to kitchen to dining room, seeing that each of the guests was having as much fun as she was. The look of happiness on her mother's face made the paper plate bonnet almost bearable.

  After coffee and dessert, Sunny's sister Liz produced a big fat family photo album and everyone crowded around. "First picture ever of the bride and groom," said Liz, pointing to a photo of Sunny and Robert dressed for a junior high Halloween party.

  "Frankenstein and his bride," said her cousin Ronnie. "Even then they knew...."

  Sunny tossed a pillow at her. "Unfair," she protested. "What we didn't know was that those pictures would be passed on for posterity." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Jessi moving closer to the center of activity. Her heart did a flutter inside her chest as she realized Jessi was interested in the photo album. Olivia put an arm about the girl's slender shoulders. "Doesn't your dad look young?"

  Jessi nodded, her eyes not straying from the photo album. "Daddy knew Sunny in junior high?"

  Olivia glanced at Sunny who fielded the question. "We met in chem lab the very first day." She thought for a second. "We were just about your age."

  Jessi looked as if she found that idea too far-fetched to believe.

  Sunny launched into a funny story about the junior high prom and Robert's struggle with a bow tie. The corners of Jessi's mouth twitched but she managed to suppress her smile. Oh, honey, don't fight so hard, thought Sunny. You may not want me for your mother, but I might not be so bad as a friend.

  Sunny casually moved over, making room for the girl to sit down next to her. There were times she felt as if she were trying to gentle a gun-shy pony. Well, at least Jessi was still in the room with them. A few weeks ago that would have been too much to even dream about. She held her breath as Jessi perched on the arm of the sofa. "Take a look at this one," Sunny said casually, pointing toward a picture of Robert and herself taken in front of a tiny brick office building. "That's our wedding picture."