He swiped one hand back over his thick hair, in need of a haircut, but oh, how handsome he looked. Like a leading man who’d steppedoff the silver screen. When they went to California, he might find his own stardom there.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “You deserve all of that and more, Izzy. I’m trying to get those things for you, but the cash hasn’t come as quickly as I expected.”
“It’s more than the money.” She pulled her knees to her chest. “You keep leaving, and I don’t know where you are. Your father took me to the hospital, thank God, when my pains began, but he’s no help with a baby. It’s like he’s pretending we aren’t even here when this is supposed to be our home.”
Simon placed the fancy cuff links that his mother gave him, engraved with his name, on the nightstand. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and straightened it neatly on the back of a chair before sitting beside her. When he kissed her, she forgave all.
Every woman, her mother had written in a letter, had difficult emotions after giving birth. She and Simon would weather this trying time until his business deal came through, and then they’d renew their love on the Pacific beaches while her college friends took their final exams.
Following their honeymoon, she and Simon would return to their big house in Winfield and settle into their new life as husband and wife. She’d give Simon what he wanted, and he would take care of her.
“You’re right,” he said, caressing her leg. “You shouldn’t be alone when I’m gone. I have friends who can help us. I just have to head back tomor—”
“I love you, Simon, with all my heart, but I don’t much like your friends.”
He smiled like she was confused. “What friends of mine do you know?”
“Mainly a fella named Louie.”
The curse that should never fall from a gentleman’s lips shocked her.
“Don’t swear, Simon.”
He stood now, pacing the floor, and she regretted telling him about the visitor. She should have waited until morning.
“What was Louie doing here?” he demanded.
“Looking for you and he was quite persistent about it, but I didn’t know where you went.”
He swiped his shirt off the chair. “Pack up, Izzy.”
She didn’t move. “Where are we going?”
“To visit your parents.”
“What?”
“It’s time they helped us.”
If he’d said California, she would gladly pack her suitcase and take the next train heading west—and he could easily persuade her to spend the night with him in Cleveland at some swanky place—but she couldn’t take him to Elms tonight.
“Come meet your daughter,” she said, trying to steady her nerves. Distract him, at the very least. She longed to go home, desperate to see her mother, but not before Simon’s cash fell their way. Right now, he wouldn’t be pleased at all if he found out she’d stretched the truth about her family’s finances.
The Brooks family lived in a two-bedroom house not much bigger than where she and Simon found themselves. And the stench. The paper mill in Elms reeked of rotting timber, its nasty fumes trickling into every corner of their town. On the worst days, when the breeze refused to blow the odor beyond the canal, she’d wanted to rot away with the wood.
“I’ll carry...” He paused, searching for their daughter’s name.
“Greta.”
“Right,” he clipped. “I’ll carry Greta to the car.”
“We can’t just show up at my parents’ house in the middle of the night! We’ll scare them half to death.”
He looked at his Rolex, probably worth more than her parents’ Ford Deluxe. Why didn’t he just sell that if they were strapped for cash?
“We can be there before eleven.”
That wasn’t the kind of help she’d been wanting. If he asked her parents for money, they’d think her destitute. Tongues would start wagging across town, churning out rumors like they did pulp. By tomorrow night, half the residents would think she’d married beneath her. No matter what she said about Simon’s inheritance, that he owned one of the grandest homes in all of Winfield, that he was merely waiting for his property to sell, they’d never forget her husband asking for cash.
