Doris Fell - Long-Awaited Wedding

“Good. The top five snares Davenport. She won’t like that.”

“A personal problem, Niko?”

“We had a few words about the missile going off.”

“Your problem. But if I find you had anything to do with firing that missile, Niko, you’re on your way out, too. But don’t worry, I’ll give you a good retirement settlement.”

Nick frowned. “I hate the way you play with my life. Allen, you have everything. Give me a chance.”

“I’ve lost everything that was important to me.”

“You’re still running Larhaven Aircraft.”

“Just keep that in mind. And, Nick, I’ve decided to take that Wednesday meeting with the Board of Directors at Fabian.”

“I tell you, Allen, I can handle it. Aren’t you worried about clashing with Eddie McCormick?”

“No. He works with us or he bows out gracefully.”

“Why don’t you do the same, Allen? Take a leave of absence?”

“And put you in charge? You’re not ready for the job.”

Nick glanced morosely out on the lake. “I can handle it.”

“Not the way I do.”

Nick—dependable? Somehow he had always managed to slip into class as the bell rang, or to arrive at the table by the time their father finished his perfunctory prayer. But trust Nick to run the business or make major decisions? Not good.

“I’m going to see this merger through, Nick. Larhaven still has a good reputation. Let’s keep it that way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t take over until I’m dead. That’s a promise I made to Mother. And with just three years between us, I’m apt to be around making decisions for a long time.”

“We never know when our time will be up, Allen. Look at Adrian.”

“We’re not talking about my wife,” he retorted.

For a few minutes silence hung between them like a dark cloud. Then Nick said, “Be glad you didn’t have kids, Allen.”

“I’d still have something of Adrian in my life then.”

“It’s not that Fran and I don’t feel sorry for you—”

“I don’t want your pity.”

“That’s why we haven’t given it I think my wife is right You can’t go on mourning. Get out. Go on a date. Make yourself available.” He tented his fingers. “Life goes on. Get on with your own.”

“I suppose you have someone in mind?”

“What about one of the gals at Larhaven?”

Allen had already gone that route. He saw no need to tell Nick that he had dated twice since Adrian’s death—both times a total fiasco, a botched evening, a wipeout One was with his attorney’s attractive new assistant While dropping off a file he had asked for, she boldly suggested having dinner together that evening. The other foolhardy venture was with a divorcee living in the condo above his. They had been picking up their mail at the same time. In the midst of inconsequential chatter, the girl fessed up to an empty fridge and a growing hunger.

Through both dates, his wife’s name seemed to worm its way into the conversation, and he knew that the evening was falling flat All he could do was to pick up the tab—hefty on both occasions—and to offer his date a safe ride home. One elected to go alone by taxi, and his neighbor rode in silence back to their building.

No, it just wasn’t the time yet to think seriously about a new relationship. He was still sorting out Adrian’s loss, trying to adjust to an empty condo and the terrible ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t that he would never marry again. To the contrary, he longed for companionship, needed it and knew deep down that he was not intended to live alone, that he was capable of another commitment. But not yet, not when he would still compare any other woman—no matter how lovely—to Adrian.

But he was ready to do battle with Nick because the subject had come up again. He didn’t need the advice of his younger brothers about his social life or lack of one.

“No dating, Nick. Not yet.”

“My wife has friends looking for an eligible bachelor.”

“I’m not a bachelor. I’m a widower.”

“You can’t let this drag on forever. Adrian wouldn’t want you to. With your mood swings, you’ll mess up the merger.”

“There was only one woman for me, Niko.”

Nick cocked his head, a touch of mockery in his gaze. “What about that romance of yours back when you were wet behind the ears? The one Dad got all fired up about? Doesn’t that count?”

This time the frown was Allen’s. “Maureen?”

Maureen. The sun reflected off the lake, a gentle breeze blowing across the water carrying him back twenty years in time. He could see her face, her beauty, her youth. He could even remember the curve of her mouth, the cut of her chin, the softness of her skin. And those wide violet-blue eyes had blown him away. For just a flash he felt that same searing pain that he had experienced when he went on shore leave, back to her hometown to find her. She was gone. Gone without a trace.

“Her name—it was Maureen Birkland, wasn’t it?” Nick asked.

“How did you know that?”

“Dad’s old file on her. He never did like her, you know. But she was some looker. Dad had a picture of her in the file.”

Allen nearly toppled out of the chaise lounge, but caught his balance, his feet straddling the chair. “What was Dad doing with a file on her?”

“You told him you were going to marry her.”

I was, he thought.

“That marriage bit was a shocker, I’m here to tell you. You take off for a ten-day surfing trip to California, and the next thing Dad knows, you’re not coming home. You’re getting married.”

“She was a sweet kid. What did Dad have against her?”

“He said she was a nobody, Allen. Poor family. No social standing. No money. No future. You know Dad. Only the best for his boys.”

Allen hadn’t seen it that way. They had met at a small café down by the beachfront. He was standing barefoot in the sand, his surfboard propped against the wall. He had just ordered a peach milk shake when he saw Maureen pushing her tawny hair back from her face and looking up at him with those magnificent eyes. He grabbed two straws and offered to share the shake with her.

She surprised him and accepted. They sat on the beach, side by side, as they drank the shake. Eighteen, not quite nineteen, he had toppled head-over-heels in love with her, his passions awakened in a way he had not understood. First love. And it had been real enough. She was working part time as a file clerk in a bank and going into her senior year of high school. Allen was bigtime. High school behind him, the job at his father’s aircraft industry hooked.

“We’ll get married,” he had told her on their third date, “and move back to Seattle.”

“Mother won’t let me. I have to finish high school first.”

Allen never hit it off with her mother. Mrs. Birkland had disliked him from the beginning. She knew his family was rich and didn’t believe his intentions toward Maureen were honorable. She told Maureen he was using her—”a summer fling,” she’d called it. But the more she opposed Allen, the more Maureen was drawn to him.

Nick’s words thundered again. A poor family. No social standing or money. No future.

It hadn’t mattered back then. He would stay in California and marry her. And his father had blown his lid. That’s one reason I joined the navy, he thought. To break Dad’s shackles, to guarantee my freedom. To find a way to support a wife.

“After you sailed to Cyprus, Dad flew to California to meet her. He figured anyone could be bought off. Must have worked.”

Stunned, Allen sat there. Maureen Birkland had been his first girl that summer so long ago, his reason for not going back to work for his dad. And his dad had bought her off. No wonder she wasn’t there when he went back to find her. After all these years, the realization still hurt.