Society Wives: Secret Lives

Jack leaned close and whispered to Lily, “Remember what I told you. Stay away from the liver mousse.”

But Lily didn’t stay away from the liver mousse. Jack bit back a wince as he watched her eat another spoonful, then reach for her water glass again. “Be sure to save room for dessert,” Jack told her. “Alice makes the best strawberry shortcake in Connecticut.”

“It’s true,” his sister Courtney chimed in. “She uses real whipped cream.”

“It sounds delicious,” Lily said.

“Jack tells us you’re a counselor for Eastwick Cares,” his mother said. “He says that you work with the troubled teens in the program.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She looked up, relief in her eyes as Alice whisked away the liver mousse. “Thank you.”

“Lily’s really amazing with those kids,” Jack said. “The number of teens who stay in school and stick with the program has nearly doubled since she’s been there.”

“It’s the kids who do the work,” she informed him. “All I do is listen.”

“Your family must be very proud of you,” his mother responded.

“Lily doesn’t have any family,” Jack informed his mother and wanted to kick himself for not telling his mother to steer clear of the subject.

“What Jack means is that I’m an orphan. I never knew who my parents were.”

“I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t know. Jack.” She said his name sharply. “You should have said something to us. Now I’ve gone and embarrassed this dear girl.”

“I’m not embarrassed, Mrs. Cartwright, and please don’t feel you need to apologize or feel sorry for me. The truth is, I’ve always believed I was pretty lucky because I’ve never had to worry about living up to anyone’s expectations but my own.”

“She’s right,” Courtney said. “Is it too late for me to be an orphan?”

Everyone laughed and Jack was relieved to have some of the tension ebb.

“Well, once you and Jack are married, you’ll be a Cartwright and we’ll be your family,” his mother said.

“Are you going to take the name Cartwright or keep your maiden name?” his sister Elizabeth asked.

“Actually, I haven’t really thought about it,” Lily replied.

“I think when I get married I’ll keep my own name,” Courtney declared.

“In my day, a woman took her husband’s name,” his mother said.

“Whatever Lily decides will be fine with me,” Jack told them, wanting to end the discussion.

“So, Lily, have you and Jack decided on a date and place for the wedding yet?” Courtney asked.

“Not yet,” Lily said. “Everything has happened kind of fast.”

“I was thinking that next weekend would be good and unless Lily wants to have a church service, I thought we would just go to the justice of the peace.” He looked across the table at her. “Does that sound all right to you?”

“The justice of the peace sounds fine.”

“A justice of the peace? You can’t be serious, Jack,” his mother proclaimed. “A woman’s wedding day is one of the most important days of her life. I’m sure Lily doesn’t want to take her vows in some dark and dingy office. Do you, dear?”

“I really don’t mind,” Lily offered.

“It’s hardly a dark and dingy office, mother. The building underwent a million-dollar renovation just last year,” Jack pointed out.

“That’s beside the point. You and Lily deserve someplace more suitable.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Cartwright—“

“It’s Sandra, dear. You must call me Sandra.”

“Sandra,” Lily repeated. “The justice of the peace’s office is fine with me. I really don’t want a lot of fuss.”

“Well, you deserve to be fussed over,” his mother declared. “And I simply won’t hear of you being married in any justice of the peace’s office. Your wedding day should be a memorable affair for both of you and we intend to make it one. We just have to figure out where to have it.”

“May and June are big months for weddings,” Courtney pointed out. “I’m sure all the good places are already booked. My friend Sue had to reserve the Eastwick Hotel for her reception a year ago.”

“Which is why we’ll go to the justice of the peace’s office,” Jack insisted.

“Nonsense,” his mother said and waved him off.

“Mother, why don’t we just have it here?” Courtney suggested. “We could hold it in the gardens.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Courtney. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it,” his mother said. “Everything’s in bloom right now and the temperatures are mild. The garden would be the perfect setting for a wedding.”

“We can set up an arbor of roses and we should drape the guests’ chairs with white covers and bows,” Courtney suggested.

“Yes. Yes. And we’ll have a white runner for Lily to walk down the aisle—” his mother added.

“Before you start picking out wedding china for them, maybe you should ask Lily and Jack if this is what they want,” Elizabeth pointed out.

Jack mouthed the words thank you. He could have kissed his sister in that moment. At twenty-six, Elizabeth was seven years his junior. No one had been more surprised than him when the kid sister who’d gone off to college with her cheerleader’s pom-poms had returned home a serious young woman and enrolled in law school. It had also been a surprise when she’d chosen to work in the D.A.'s office instead of joining the family firm.

“Elizabeth’s right,” his father said.

“But, John—“

“Sandra, it’s up to them,” his father informed her. “Jack? Lily? How do you feel about having the wedding here?”

“It’s Lily’s call,” Jack answered and looked across the table at her.

“Please, Lily,” Courtney began from her seat beside Lily. She grabbed Lily’s hand and Jack recognized the look Courtney offered up to Lily. His baby sister had used that same sad-eyed look on him to get her way from the time she could walk. “Say you’ll do the wedding here, Lily. Please.”

“I hate to see everyone go to so much trouble,” Lily told her.

“It won’t be any trouble at all,” Courtney said. “Will it, Mother?”

“None whatsoever.”

“We can use Felicity Farnsworth. She’s a wedding planner,” Courtney explained. “She’s handling Emma Dearborn and Reed Kelly’s wedding for them and I heard Emma say at the club last week that she turned over all the details for the wedding to Felicity and that she’s doing a fabulous job.”

“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll call Emma’s mother and see if she can get Felicity today. We have a lot to do. I don’t think we can afford to wait until tomorrow to get started.” She looked over at Lily. “Lily, you’ll need to tell me what flowers you like and—“

“Hang on a second, Mother,” Jack said before things went any further. “I haven’t heard Lily agree to any of this yet.” He looked over at Lily. “What do you think? Are you okay about having the wedding here? Because if you’re not, all you have to do is say so.”

Lily looked around the table at the four pairs of eyes trained on her, then back to him. “I’m okay with it.”

“Good, then I’ll see if I can reach Mrs. Dearborn for Felicity’s number. In the meantime, you and I will need to work on a guest list and a menu,” his mother told Lily. “I’m thinking mini beef Wellingtons, a pasta station and maybe I could make some mini spinach quiches—“

“No,” Jack said in unison with his father and both of his sisters. The joint protest did what none of them singularly could have done. It stopped his mother cold.

“But you all loved my spinach quiche. What about you, Lily? Do you like spinach quiche?”

“I … um … I’m not really a spinach fan,” she said and dropped her gaze.

Jack smiled, proud of Lily and not at all surprised that she learned fast. “You heard Lily, mother. The bride doesn’t like spinach quiche.”

“Well, I could do a quiche Lorraine instead,” his mother suggested.

“Darling, you’re going to have far too much to do to bother with cooking,” his father told her. “Why don’t we let Alice and the caterers handle the food?”

She seemed to consider that a moment. “You’re probably right. We do have a lot to do and not much time to do it. Courtney, would you see if you can get Mrs. Dearborn on the phone for me? And, Elizabeth, could you get me a notepad and a pen?” She stood and placed her napkin on the table. “Lily and Jack, let’s go into the library and start making a list. John, would you tell Alice we’ll have coffee and dessert there?”

“Of course.”

The rest of them pushed their chairs away from the table and stood. Jack walked around the table to Lily. She had a glazed look in her eyes and he could only imagine how overwhelmed she must be. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Sandra, why don’t you ladies go ahead and get started?” John said. “I’d like to have a word with Jack.”

Once his mother, Lily and his sisters had left the dining room, Jack waited for his father to return from the kitchen where he’d passed along the instructions to Alice. He hadn’t been surprised that his father wanted to speak with him. He had hit his parents with the news about Lily’s pregnancy and announced their plans to marry only the previous morning. Both of them had been shocked, but there had been no recriminations, no lectures—only their unconditional support and love. Yet he hadn’t missed the concern in his father’s eyes.

“Why don’t we go outside so I can smoke a cigar,” his father suggested when he returned to the dining room. “Your mother doesn’t like me smelling up the place.”

“Mother doesn’t like you smoking those at all,” Jack reminded him.

His father shrugged. “It’s my only vice.”

It was true, Jack thought. His father truly was a good man, an honest man who was devoted to his wife and family. It had been his father who had made him want to follow in his footsteps and study law. It had been his father who had taught him responsibility. And it was because of the lessons that John Cartwright had taught him that he’d known that marrying Lily was the right thing to do.

Once he’d lit his cigar, his father said, “Let’s walk a bit.”

Located on five acres, his parents’ home looked like what it was—a wealthy family’s estate. In addition to the five bedrooms and seven baths, the fourteen-thousand-square-foot house had every amenity: five fireplaces, a library, a billiard room, garden room and a gourmet kitchen. The place even boasted tennis courts, a pool and a pool house with a full kitchen, living room, bedroom and Japanese bath. Yet, his parents had managed to make the place a real home, welcoming and warm. He hoped Lily had found both his family and their home that way.

“Lily seems like a nice girl,” his father said as he puffed on the cigar.

“She is,” Jack told him. “She was pretty nervous about coming here today and meeting you. I think she expected you all to resent her for what’s happening. So I appreciate how kind you’ve been under the circumstances.”

“I don’t see any reason why we should resent her. She didn’t make this baby by herself.”

“No, she didn’t,” Jack said. He had to give his parents credit. Since he’d dropped the bombshell yesterday about Lily’s pregnancy and his intention to marry her, his parents had offered no recriminations or unsolicited advice. The only thing either of them had asked was whether he was sure the child was his. Once he had assured them it was, they had simply asked how they could help.

His father followed the path toward the small stream that ran along the property. Growing up, he had often walked this path with his father. It had been at the stream that his father had first told him the facts of life. It was here that his father had spoken to him about women and responsibility. It was at the stream that he had first told his father that he wanted to be a lawyer like him. Jack knew his father had wanted to come here for a reason. So he waited, knowing his father would tell him what was on his mind when he was ready.

“I had a call from Tom Carlton last night,” he began. “He said he landed another major backer for the Cartwright for Senate Campaign. All he’s waiting for is the word from you to announce your candidacy.”

“Yes, I heard. He left me a message,” Jack said, remembering the voice mails left at his office and his home. He had yet to call Carlton back.

“He was concerned because he hadn’t heard back from you and wanted to know how to get in touch with you. I told him we were expecting you today and I’d have you call him.”

“I’ll give him a call when we get back to the house.”

His father took another puff on his cigar. “You given any thought to how your marriage to Lily might affect your political plans?”

“I’m still not sure what my political plans are. But other than finding out Lily’s feelings on the subject of me running for office, I don’t see why my marriage has anything to do with it.”

“It shouldn’t,” his father told him. “But Connecticut is a conservative state. And Tom Carlton and his group are right at the top of the conservative train. They pride themselves on their heritage and strong family values. They like their candidates and their candidates’ families to fit the same bill. And as nice as I think Lily is, she might not be what they consider the proper wife for a senator. This unplanned pregnancy and quickie wedding might not sit well with them either.”

Jack scowled. “Then that’s their problem, not mine. Lily wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’s overcome enormous odds and made something of herself. So what you, Carlton or anyone else thinks of her suitability doesn’t matter. I’m not embarrassed by her background. I’m proud of her for not allowing it to hold her back. And nothing you or anyone else says will make me feel otherwise.”

“If it did, then you wouldn’t be the man I thought you were,” his father said.

“If you feel that way, then why the lecture?”

“Because I think you need to be prepared for people’s reaction to your marriage to Lily. There are a lot of small-minded people, even in Eastwick, who will think she trapped you into this marriage and that you’re ruining your political future.”

“The only opinions that matter to me are my family’s,” Jack told him.

His father nodded and they continued to walk in silence. Yet his father’s words reminded him of the blackmail note he’d found in his pocket a week ago. He’d dismissed it and would do so again, he admitted. But listening to his father’s warnings now made him wonder who the author had been. He’d learned from Lily that it had been Bunny Baldwin who had given her the ticket to the ball. As the publisher of the Eastwick Social Diary and a maven for gossip, he wouldn’t have put it past Bunny to have discovered that he was the father of Lily’s baby. But the blackmail note had shown up after Bunny was dead, and unless Bunny’s ghost had decided to shake him down for cash, it had to be someone else.

Maybe someone Bunny had told?

Jack frowned. The note had appeared while he was at Abby Talbot’s home. Abby was Bunny’s daughter and the pair had been close. It was conceivable that Bunny had told Abby. Despite the fact that Bunny had always spoken highly of this counselor named Lily Miller, the scandal would have been hard for Bunny to ignore. In fact, it was just the sort of dirt that filled the pages of the Diary.

He recalled how distraught Abby had been following her mother’s death. Too distraught to execute a blackmail plan, he reasoned. Besides, Abby simply didn’t strike him as a blackmailer. Her husband, Luke, was another matter. An image of Luke on the day of the funeral, slipping away and disappearing into another part of the house, coming outdoors to speak on his cell phone, came to mind. While the fellow was pleasant enough, there was something different about him—something that Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on. The man had always struck him as a loner, but it went beyond that. Luke Talbot was … secretive. Maybe Abby had repeated what Bunny had told her to Luke in pillow talk. For that matter, Abby could easily have mentioned it to the Debs Club.

Jack thought about the five women given the nickname by the country club years ago. They were a close bunch and they had all been at the black-and-white ball. If Bunny had told Abby about him and Lily, Abby could have easily mentioned it to her friends at one of their luncheons. He thought about the other four women now—Emma Dearborn, Mary Duvall, Vanessa Thorpe and Felicity Farnsworth. All of them had been at Abby’s house following the funeral. As he thought about the violet-eyed Emma Dearborn, he couldn’t see her as a blackmailer. The woman had her own money. She had a successful art gallery and she was engaged to Reed Kelly. Where was the motive? As for Mary Duvall, the one-time wild child of the Duvall family had undergone a metamorphosis since her grandfather David’s stroke. She’d become devoted to the older man—hardly the actions of a blackmailer.

That left Vanessa Thorpe and Felicity Farnsworth. Stuart’s death had left his much younger wife, Vanessa, set for life. He could see no reason for the petite blonde to resort to blackmail. And as for Felicity Farnsworth. He had heard she’d had financial troubles following her divorce a number of years back. But from all accounts her wedding-planning business was doing great. If the lady was the blackmailer, she certainly didn’t act like one.

“You think Lily knows what a hornet’s nest your marriage and her pregnancy are going to stir up?”

“She’s a smart woman. I’m sure she has an idea,” Jack told him.

“You’re probably right. But whispers and innuendos … they tend to be harder on a female. How do you think she’ll handle it?”

“She’s a strong woman. She won’t let a little gossip bother her.”

“I sure hope you’re right, son. Because the way I see it, she’s going to get the brunt of the talk and she’s the one who’s going to have to do most of the adjusting.”

“Marriage is going to be an adjustment for both of us,” Jack pointed out.

“True. But it’s going to be her life that has to change the most. She’s going to suddenly be a wife, a mother and have to take on the Cartwright mantle practically all at once. That’s a tough assignment for any woman.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to make the transition easier for her,” he assured his father. “But like I said, Lily’s a smart and strong woman. She’s not going to let a few wagging tongues bother her.”

“Take it from a man who’s seen his wife through three pregnancies, it doesn’t matter how smart or strong a woman is, when she’s carrying a baby, you’re dealing with a whole other woman.”

“I’ll remember that.”

His father fell silent. He said nothing for a long time as they continued to walk. But Jack knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t finished. Whatever else he had to say, he would do so in his own time.

John took another puff on the cigar and as they approached the stream, he asked, “I ever tell you about the first time I met your mother?”

“She said you met at a dance,” Jack responded.

“It was at the military ball actually. I was a college senior and captain of my ROTC unit and she came with her cousin, Bess. I thought I was pretty hot stuff back then. And the truth is, I was. I had more than my share of dates and was in no hurry to settle down,” he continued as they stopped on the bridge that spanned the stream. “Then I saw your mother. There she was standing in the doorway—this slip of a girl in a long white dress with hair the color of coffee and sparkling green eyes. I took one look at her and it hit me.”

“What hit you?”

“The Italians call it the lightning bolt. And I guess that’s as good a way to describe it as any. Because I felt this jolt to my system. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And I knew right then and there that she was the one for me, that she was the woman I was going to marry.”

As he listened to his father, Jack couldn’t help thinking about his own reaction to Lily the first time he’d seen her. There had been something about her that he hadn’t been able to resist, too. And the truth was he hadn’t been able to forget her either. Even with the shock of learning about the baby, the pull was still there.

“Unfortunately, your mother didn’t feel quite the same way and it took me a while to convince her that I was the right man for her,” his father added.

“How did you manage that?”

“I gave her some space and time to figure out for herself what she wanted. Once I took off the pressure, she realized what she wanted was me.” He paused, looked at him. “I got the impression that Lily isn’t quite as sure as you are about this marriage.”

“She isn’t,” Jack admitted and the truth was that while he knew marrying was the right thing to do for the baby’s sake, he had his own misgivings. “But unlike you, I can’t give Lily the time to figure out that marriage to me is the right thing.” Because if he gave her time, he wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t change her mind.

Four

Maybe Jack had been right. They should have simply gone to the justice of the peace’s office, Lily thought as she sat at the table in the Cartwrights’ library. How did something that sounded so simple become so complicated? Once Sandra Cartwright had reached Felicity Farnsworth, the wedding planner had offered to come right over with books, pictures and everything needed to plan her wedding.

Her wedding.

Lily’s stomach pitched. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to marry Jack. In truth, she still found it hard to believe that he’d asked her. No, not asked, she reminded herself. He’d all but insisted.

He might have insisted, but you agreed, Lily girl.

It was true. She had agreed—for the baby’s sake. She was doing it for the baby, she told herself, so that her child would have what she’d never had—parents, a family. Not just any family, she reminded herself. Her child would be a member of the Cartwrights.

They had not been what she’d expected, Lily admitted. When she’d first seen their home, she’d wanted to turn and run. She probably would have, too, had Jack not been there to stop her. Oh, she’d rubbed elbows with rich people before because of her job. She’d even visited a mansion or two for fund-raising. But she had never been a part of that world, never been welcomed into it with open arms—literally. She could still remember the shock of being hugged by the elegant Sandra Cartwright. She hadn’t expected that. No, she had expected Jack’s mother to be cool, to treat her as the unsuitable woman who was ruining her son’s life. But Sandra hadn’t. Nor had Jack’s father or sisters. In fact, they’d all been so nice to her that she’d been on the verge of blubbering—another side effect of her pregnancy.

“We’ll need to decide on what type of wedding cake you want,” Felicity said, breaking into her thoughts. “Do you have anything special in mind, Lily?”

“No, not really,” she told the voluptuous blonde who had breezed into the Cartwright home more than two hours ago with enough energy and enthusiasm to power a ship. Dressed all in black, Felicity Farnsworth had been as cheerful as the butterfly clips she wore in her hair.

“Not to worry,” Felicity said and flashed a smile that lit up her green eyes. She pulled out another thick binder from her arsenal and plopped it on the table. “Let’s see if we can find something in here that you like.”

“Ooh, that one’s lovely,” Sandra said.

“So is this one,” Courtney said enthusiastically. “And this one.”

“That one looks like a Barbie-doll cake,” Elizabeth said dryly.

Lily sat back and watched the exchange. There was something warm and endearing about the dynamics of the Cartwright family, the way they reacted to one another, the affection beneath the squabbles, the sense of belonging. They were a real family. She looked over at the twin fireplaces and the mantels filled with family photographs. More pictures fought for space on the desk and library shelves. Beyond the library, which spilled into the living room, she saw the baby grand piano, its gleaming top covered with more photos of Jack as a boy, at graduation, of Elizabeth at her sweet sixteen party, of his parents celebrating their anniversary, of the family gathered around the Christmas tree. Someday her baby’s picture would be there. Her baby would be a part of this family. Her child would belong. It was the reason she was doing this, Lily reminded herself again. She just wished that she didn’t have to mess up Jack’s life to make it happen.