Walls of Jericho. Lynn Bulock

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      “Which has more bubbles?” he asked. “Fountain soda or cans?”

      “Cans. Don’t shake them and don’t join the contest, understood?” She ran a hand through his hair, only to have him pull back.

      “Gel, remember?”

      Of course. Trent and Jeremy had helped him style the unruly mop before the wedding. “Right. Sorry. And I mean it about being good, got it?”

      “Got it,” he said over his shoulder, heading over to join the beverage line and get his can of something extremely bubbly.

      Maybe she should hunt down the boys and Carrie, and settle them down. Shaking her head again, Claire sought her father, instead.

      “Sorry you didn’t have a band?” she asked him, giving him a quick hug. She was surprised when he answered her with a hearty squeeze right there in the middle of the church hall. If this was what marriage did for her usually reticent father, she liked it.

      “A little bit. It would be fun dancing with Gloria. But then I’d get roped into dancing with all you girls, and two dozen ladies with blue hair, and I’m just as glad not to have to do that.”

      “I imagine.” Claire looked over at Gloria, who had her granddaughter Mikayla on her hip and was straightening the stretchy headband in the child’s fluffy pale hair. “So, are you two going to sneak out soon?”

      Hank shrugged. “Don’t see how we can for a while. I’m just glad we decided to go off to Branson for a few days. It will seem calm compared to this.”

      He put an arm around Claire again, and she marveled at the happiness in his blue eyes.

      “Did I give you the last set of keys to the apartment?” he asked. “I can always come get them when we get back, to clear out the last of the boxes.”

      “You sure did. They’re on the dresser, next to Ben’s huge ring of keys from the hardware store. You could have kept a set if you wanted, though.”

      “It’s safe this way. In more ways than one. This way if we have a spat, I don’t have any way to go home to the family.”

      Claire giggled. “Right, Dad. That will happen. You two look like you couldn’t be happier. And I’m sure it will last.”

      Hank winked at her. “If it lasts as long as you and Ben, we would make the papers as the oldest couple in the county, I think.”

      She thumped him on the shoulder, but gently. “I meant your happiness. And anyway, in sixteen years you’d only be—”

      He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t even go there, my dear. I know it’s true, but I don’t want to be reminded.” Pulling back, he smiled, then came in to kiss her on the forehead in a very uncharacteristic, but endearing gesture. “I’ll check in next week when we get back from Branson, and bring the truck over to move the last of the boxes. I’m down to odds and ends that Gloria doesn’t want to see, I imagine.”

      “Like that elk head from Canada that Mom wouldn’t let in the house, I’ll bet.”

      Hank grinned. “You didn’t notice that was already out of the garage? Gloria put it in the mudroom for a hat rack. The woman has quite a sense of humor.”

      “Yeah, she married you,” Claire teased. “Seriously, though, all happiness. Have a good trip to Branson.”

      “We will. You two taking off now?”

      Claire shook her head. “Not yet. And you know that by the time we leave it will be seven, not two. We’ve still got Laurel and Jeremy. And the boys, who are having some kind of contest with Carrie that I don’t want to know about. I just wanted to come over here and catch you while I could.”

      “Good job,” Hank told her. “Of course you’d manage to come while Gloria was holding Mikayla. I’m sure that was pure coincidence.”

      Gloria, hearing her name, came closer. “Coincidence, hmm? Where Claire and babies are concerned, I don’t think so, Hank. I’d offer to let you hold her, but she’s at that age where there aren’t many people, besides her mom, that she’ll go to.”

      “She is a doll baby, though, isn’t she?” Claire stroked the wispy hair, not getting close enough to frighten the wide-eyed child. “Like I told Dad, all the best. And have a great time in Branson.”

      “I’m sure we will.” Gloria’s eyes glowed with happiness, and possibly with a few unshed tears.

      Claire wondered what kind of feelings went through a woman’s head on a second wedding day like this. It was hard for Claire to imagine.

      Suddenly she had a question—for Ben. She knew it might be hours before she got her answer. But it was very important. She made her goodbyes, and found him discussing the fall football season and Friedens’s chances against their biggest rival in Union.

      Some of the folks in the discussion seemed to think Trent would automatically follow his father’s lead as Friedens High School’s star quarterback. Ben didn’t disabuse them of the notion, even though he knew how Claire felt about the boys playing football. She was nervous enough that Trent would probably be on junior varsity in the fall.

      When Ben slipped an arm around her, it was almost without looking—and, she suspected, without thinking. Just one of those automatic reactions because she was there.

      The thought was still playing over in her mind later that same night, when she was standing at the bathroom mirror, brushing her hair before bed.

      Sometimes it was very helpful to have your husband run a hardware store. Even if he didn’t have the time to do all the work himself, they could afford all the materials to keep the place in shape. She was glad that they’d done the remodeling of the old house, giving them a real master bathroom. This way she could look in the mirror and through the doorway, if the door was open, see Ben in bed stretched out the way he was now, propped up on one elbow. How somebody looked that appealing in a plain gray T-shirt was beyond her.

      “Ben? Wasn’t it a nice wedding?” She put down the hairbrush and smoothed her shoulder-length waves. Still no gray among the light brown. Not everybody could say that at thirty-four.

      “Nice? Sure. It was real nice.” Ben seemed to be interested in the sports magazine on the bed.

      “Can I ask you a question?”

      “Any time.” He still didn’t lift his head from the magazine, but he was listening. That much she knew.

      “I got the strangest feeling while I was at the reception watching Gloria and Dad. They looked so happy. Were we that happy?”

      “Of course. We were so happy we nearly floated.”

      She could see his eyes in the mirror now, behind her, looking a little puzzled. “If you knew everything then, do you think you’d still do it the same way? Getting married that young, and all?” She wanted to add that she would—in a moment. But something stopped her. Perhaps it was the silence from the bedroom.

      She could hear crickets outside through an open СКАЧАТЬ