The Wedding Plan. Abby Gaines
I’m leaving you,” he said. “Who’ll look after you, Merry, if you get sick? Who’ll fix your car when that starter motor plays up again?”
“My doctor and my mechanic,” she said, and this time she managed the necessary lightness.
“Who’s going to comfort you when I’m gone?” he asked. “Be at your side, through good times and bad? Not just next week, but for the rest of your life.”
It struck her that during all that time in the waiting room, she hadn’t once thought of calling Patrick.
“There’ll be someone.” She tried to sound confident. “Dad, I don’t want you worrying about me. Think of something that makes you happy.”
“I’ll tell you what would make me happy,” he said with a surge of energy that sent her hopes soaring. “It’d stop me worrying, too.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll make it happen,” she said instantly. “Uh, I don’t have to ‘hang, draw and quarter those idiots who made Fisher Street one-way,’ do I?”
Her father gave a raspy chuckle at one of his favorite threats. “Nothing so drastic, Merry-Berry.” He patted her hand. “I’d like you to get married.”
She laughed, louder than the joke deserved, but if he felt well enough to kid around…
Wait a minute.
He wasn’t smiling.
He was giving her the same look he had when he’d said, “I’d like you to promise me you’ll never get in a car with a boy who’s been drinking.” And, “I’d like you to never smoke marijuana.” No problem with the second, but she couldn’t say she’d obeyed the first a hundred percent. As for this one…
“Dad, no! I can’t just get married out of the blue.”
“What happened to ‘whatever it is, I’ll make it happen’?” He lifted his tubed-and-wired left hand a few inches off the blanket, agitated.
“I can’t work miracles,” she said. “Patrick and I have only been dating for—”
“Patrick!” John’s face turned red. “I don’t want my daughter ending up with that lemon. You need to marry Lucas.”
Merry’s chair scraped harshly against the linoleum as she jerked backward. “Dad, that’s crazy.”
“Think about it,” he said. “You’ve dated on and off for years, so there’s obviously something strong between you.”
A strong desire to shut their fathers up. “More off than on,” she said. “Dad, we’re not—”
“You both know that Dwight and I always hoped you two… But that’s not a good reason,” he said. “What is a good reason is that you suit each other. It’s obvious to everyone.”
“Dad, Lucas and I aren’t that close.” Damn those stupid exaggerations she’d fed their fathers. “Let alone soul mates, which is what you’ve always said I should look for.”
“How do you know you’re not soul mates?” John said. “You’ve never given each other a serious chance.”
“You and Mom knew instantly,” she reminded him.
“We met when we were in our twenties. Chances are, if I’d known her since I was three years old, like you’ve known Lucas, it might have taken me a little longer to see the treasure right before my eyes.”
“Dad, I’m not Lucas’s treasure, and he’s not mine.”
“I think you are,” he said obstinately. “Lucas told me when he was ten years old that he planned to marry you.”
Her jaw dropped. “No way.”
John managed a grin. “Where do you think Dwight and I got the idea?”
“You can hardly hold Lucas to a ten-year-old’s crush.” She wondered if he remembered. Reminding him could be fun....
An alarm beeped on one of her father’s monitors, and she jumped. “What’s that? Dad, are you okay?”
A nurse, older than the one from the waiting room, bustled in, just in time to stop Merry hitting the panic button. “Time for a top-up, Mr. Wyatt.” With deft movements she removed an empty IV bag from its hanger and replaced it with a full one.
Merry didn’t speak until the monitor was chugging along in what she assumed was a normal fashion. Then she said, “Dad, it’s sweet that you’re worried about me....”
“It’s not sweet,” he growled. “It’s hell.”
That silenced her. Momentarily. “Even if I was willing, Lucas doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Have you even asked him?” her dad demanded.
“Of course not.”
“Merry…” Her father briefly closed his eyes. “We both know I’m not going to make it. It would mean more than I can say to know you’re married to Lucas. A man who’ll look after you.”
“He wants to go back to active duty,” she reminded her father.
“That’s his job. The navy will take care of him. And of you, when he’s away.”
Men like her dad and Dwight—and Lucas—considered arguments about the mortality rates in the services irrelevant.
“I know Lucas cares for you,” John said. “If it’s at all possible, please, could you ask him if—if he cares enough to marry you?”
Not in a million years.
Another monitor started beeping. This time, Merry didn’t panic. But this time it was serious. Two nurses ran in, followed by a doctor. Merry found herself out in the hallway, the door closed in her face.
She leaned her forehead against it and prayed for her father’s survival. For a miracle cure.
What if there is no miracle? Would she let her father die worrying about her, deprived of the peace a man should have in his final moments? When just maybe, she had the power to give him that peace?
CHAPTER FOUR
MERRY PUSHED OPEN THE DOOR to Pete’s Burger Shack. She couldn’t have been thinking clearly, to have suggested this place to Patrick when he’d texted to confirm their date. Of course I wasn’t thinking clearly. The only thought in her head had been how she might ease her dad’s fears.
Pete’s might be a New London institution, but it wasn’t the setting for important occasions. It had been the venue for Merry’s second annual Date With Lucas.
At first glance, she couldn’t see Patrick in the happy-hour crowd. She was about to text to ask if he was here when her cell phone buzzed. A message from Lucas: WHERE ARE U?
She texted back: PETE’S
He probably wanted contact information for the people he should notify about her dad. But since she hadn’t been allowed back into his room, she didn’t have it. Ah, there was Patrick, waving to her from the back corner booth.
She pushed her way through the happy drinkers. Patrick already had a glass of red wine and a bowl of peanuts in front of him; he stood as she arrived.
“Hi, sweetheart.” One hand settled on her hip as he leaned to kiss her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” She slid into the seat opposite.
Patrick had the kind of looks any woman would like. His brown hair was slightly long and flopped over his forehead. He was slim but well-proportioned with a ready smile. His two passions—animals and peace—seemed to Merry the ultimate in caring. She felt a rush of affection for him.
Most parents would be thrilled to have