AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (79 page)

Chapter 3

We were chatting and bonding over our losses when Prudence announced dinner. As we made our way to the dining room we found Mrs. Goodman already seated.

“You two seem to have much to talk about. A few things in common I imagine,” she said with her smile.

We ate, and it was a well cooked meal. Mrs. Goodman had prepared rice, biscuits, more vegetables from the garden, and a variety of meats from the butcher. After dessert she excused herself to bed and left Jacob and I to a little time alone. We decided to sit on the front porch and talk a bit more.

“It will be nice to try some of your cooking,” he said. “What would you say is your specialty?”

“I guess that is a matter of opinion. I most enjoy baking, but can cook whatever I put my mind to. I’ve never encountered a recipe I couldn’t learn and make my own in time,” I said.

I wasn’t sure how to answer his question. I didn’t want to seem like I was bragging, but I didn’t want to feign modesty either.

“Delightful,” he replied. “I love to eat. Mrs. Goodman is a wonderful cook, but it would be nice to have a home cooked meal without having to leave home.”

“Perhaps we can fetch her to dine with us?” I asked hoping to steer the conversation toward the real reason I had travelled so far.

“Your letters were quite amusing,” he continued. “I am glad you are as friendly in person. Your picture hardly did you justice.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You are handsome yourself. You are friendlier than your letters. I mean, you seemed friendly, but you are much more open than I imagined.”

              “My letters were a bit to the point,” he agreed. “You are here now, though. That makes the greatest difference. Being able to look someone in the eyes has always been the best way to get to know someone.”

              “Do you feel you are getting to know me well?” I asked.

              “Yes, and I hope you feel the same,” he replied.

              I supposed I was, but what I really wanted to know was his intentions.

              “Mr. Johnson,” I began.

              “Please, call me Jacob,” he requested. 

              “Jacob,” I began again, “you seem like a very nice man. You seem established within the community and not wanting for anything. How is it you are unmatched? I mean, why would a man such as yourself need to advertise for a wife?”

              “You are an engaging young woman, Lillian, in appearance and personality. Yet, you have answered such an advertisement,” he said simply.

              I nodded and ran through the entire day and situation in my mind. I guess he could read the concern on my face.

              “I had a position to fill, so after 10 years vacancy I placed an ad. Then I received an interesting inquiry from a young woman in Kansas City. She sent a photograph that was quite charming. Her letters seemed to long for independence while also promoting skills and qualities that would be admirable in a wife,” he said.

              I sat taken aback. Our marriage contract seemed to have an emphasis on contract.

              “I will still stand by the requests of my letters – a tidy home, hot meals, and companionship when I am not working. I will not pressure you for any other intimacies if that is what you are wondering. That was never my intention,” he said.

              I believed him.

“So, you are suggesting a marriage of friendship then? Wife by occupation? There would be nothing more?” I asked.

              He sat facing me a bit more directly.

              “Do you think you could be content with such a life? Such a marriage?” he asked.

              I thought a moment longer, but just as I was drawn to his ad I still felt drawn to him now. I wanted to learn more and know him better. Surely there was more to him for a woman such as Mrs. Goodman to dote on him as she had.

              “Jacob, if you are asking, I will marry you. I think we complement each other,” I replied.

              He smiled and sat back. I sat more comfortably as well. We discussed things a bit more. Then, we bid each other good night.

              As I climbed the stairs to bed I noticed Mrs. Goodman’s light turn out under her bedroom door. I wrote my sister a new letter. There was much to say now that I met Jacob.

Chapter 4

              The week moved pretty swiftly. Jacob visited again the following evening and the three of us had dinner. Again, Mrs. Goodman went to bed early, but this time she took dessert to her room. I had made pastries filled with vanilla cream. Jacob praised their lightness and confessed to having a sweet tooth as well. The following day, we picnicked in Mrs. Goodman’s garden. I prepared sandwiches and a few sides with a variety of muffins for dessert. She joined us, but when we were done eating she encouraged us to take a walk around the yard while she took a nap.

              “I do think your chaperone is remiss in her duties,” Jacob chuckled.

              “You, sir, have not been paying attention. As we make our next turn keep your eye to her bedroom window. You will notice a tiny gap that appears in her curtains occasionally,” I laughed back.

              We continued a few steps. I thought on the sound of his laugh. I liked it, but he didn’t use it often and even now he stifled it quickly.

              “You appear to be right,” he said.

              We had another small chuckle and then returned to gather the picnic items. I gave the leftover food to the gardener and Jacob carried the basket and blanket for me as we headed toward the house.

              At the very least I could say he was a gentleman. He had proven himself courteous and polite. I felt he was holding back his emotions, though. I wondered if a marriage between us could be as supportive as my parents’ marriage or share a friendship like my sister and Michael.

              “Do you regret not having a proper courtship and proposal?” he asked.

              “I hadn’t really thought about it,” I answered honestly. “I never imagined myself to be the marrying kind.”

              He raised an eyebrow, surprised.

              “My parents had a good marriage, and my sister was fortunate to find a man as suited to her as Michael,” I said.

              “Did you not imagine such a life for yourself as well?” He asked.

              I felt I was being interviewed again, but continued to answer honestly.

              “I suppose I imagined married life for myself on some level. I guess I hoped to travel a little first or that my sister would eventually pick a nice fellow for me at a certain age. I’ve just never wanted to feel tied down,” I said.

              I stopped walking and Jacob stopped beside me. We were standing at the servants’ door to the kitchen.

              “Your ad seemed like an opportunity to fulfil my desire to explore as well as my sister’s pending wish that I marry. I want a life on my own terms,” I said.

              He nodded then opened the door for me. Inside, Prudence took our things from Jacob’s hands and we made our way to the parlor.

              “Stay for dinner. I will cook for us all tonight,” I offered.

              I didn’t imagine Mrs. Goodman having a problem with it.

              “No, there is much I must do. That is…” he paused and kneeled, producing a ring, “Miss Lillian Mark, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife day after tomorrow?”

              “Oh! Say yes, child” Mrs. Goodman exclaimed from the doorway of her bedroom at the top of the stairs.

              I laughed. Jacob was still kneeling with his ring presented.

              “Yes, Jacob. I will marry you. I suppose now I have much to do tomorrow myself,” I said.

              I felt happier than I expected and Jacob also seemed to be pleased. Well, as far as I could tell.

              Mrs. Goodman hurried down the stairs and rushed Jacob out the door. She called Prudence and Robert to join us in the sitting room as she took my arm and hurried me to her usual chair. She remained standing to pace back and forth as she gave orders.

              Robert was to go to the minister that evening to arrange a time at the church. In the morning, the best flowers would be selected from the garden. In the afternoon, Mrs. Goodman, Robert, and Prudence would go decorate the church.

              I had brought my mother’s wedding dress, which my sister also wore for her wedding. My only task was to spend the day tomorrow making any necessary alterations and purchasing a veil.

              I wrote my sister with the good news and promised to coordinate a visit soon.

              The morning of the wedding went smoothly. Prudence sat up front with Robert. Mrs. Goodman was a wonderful substitution for a mother. She said nothing but encouraging, loving words. She even wept a little talking about me moving away to Jacob’s house.

“I will be little more than a mile up the road,” I reassured her.

              Mrs. Goodman’s carriage took everyone to the church for last minute touches. Jacob drove himself so his carriage would be available for our return to his home. Then, at 9:30 Mrs. Goodman’s carriage returned for me.

On the ride I mentally weighed the pros and cons of what I was about to do and the person I was about to do it with. I was making a fairly even exchange if not moving up a little as far as comfort and overall financial security. I was in a new place; that offered adventure all its own. There were no obligations of my body; in the long run that could be good or bad. I liked to cook as it was and had been promised freedom to any other hobbies or activities I choose.             

              At the church, I waited to enter until everyone was settled and I heard the pianist play the bridal march.

              As I made my way through the doors, even with my veil I could see that Jacob looked handsome. He was freshly shaved in a charcoal colored suit. An unopened bud from Mrs. Goodman’s garden was his boutonniere. His hair showed more effort than our previous meetings.

              Though it felt time slowed as I walked taking everything in, I was at the altar before I knew it. Jacob took my hand in his and the minister began speaking.

              Though our marriage was not the typical ceremony or circumstance, I found that I could not stop smiling. I glanced to my right to find that Jacob looked calm, but happy as well. I could not tell if it were akin to a successful hire or an actual look of happiness. I believe my own feelings to be the excitement of just being a bride.

              When the moment came to exchange rings, Mrs. Goodman had given me her late husband’s ring. I learned that my ring was actually hers. Another kindness she bestowed upon me.

              Then, the moment came to kiss the bride – me. Jacob and I faced each other. He lifted my veil and gave me a long look.

              “I have never kissed anyone,” I whispered.

              “I have kissed only one,” he whispered back.

              There was a touch of sadness to his voice. I realized he had only ever loved his late wife. I pondered if I could ever truly replace her.

              Then, he leaned forward and kissed me gently on the cheek.

              As he resumed his previous stance, I looked up at him. I took his hand and returned a kiss on his cheek.

              I knew I could try.

              We were pronounced man and wife and our small group retreated to Mrs. Goodman’s for a reception. It was still just the three of us, Robert, Prudence, and now Minister Cleary.

              Once our bellies were full, Robert drove Minister Cleary home in the carriage and Prudence cleared the table and resumed her duties in the kitchen. Mrs. Goodman joined me in gathering my things for Jacob’s house.

              “He’s a good man you know. He will do his best to make you happy,” she affirmed.

              Once we were done Jacob met us at the top of the stairs to place my things in his carriage. I kissed Mrs. Goodman goodbye. She wept heavily and Jacob reminded her we would only be up the road and would still be at her house as much as ever and vice versa. Then, she stood on her porch waving as we began our short ride.

              I elected to ride at his side while he drove the carriage. Unlike Mrs. Goodman, he had lived in solitude since his loss.

              “Thank you,” Jacob said once we were out of hearing distance.

              “Shouldn’t I be thanking you? You have given me a chance at my own life,” I said.

              “No, I should thank you. You have given me a second chance at life. Something in me died with Julie, but since your first letter I have felt my heart beating again. I have missed that feeling,” he said.

Chapter 5

              The house was a slightly newer miniature of Mrs. Goodman’s. The only differences were a slightly smaller kitchen, three bedrooms instead of five, and the decorations inside. I imagine he hadn’t changed much since his wife passed, but she had done an excellent job. There were things that needed to be deep cleaned, but overall it was well maintained.

              “I suppose we should begin with a tour,” Jacob said as he unloaded my things.

              He stopped me as I started the stairs to the front porch.

              “I believe I am supposed to carry you,” he said.

              I took the gesture to be a kindness and show of good faith in our relationship. In one swift movement I was in his arms with one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back. My body naturally folded to fit and I put my arms around his neck.

              We looked each other a moment.

              “Is this alright?” He asked.

              “Yes. Just fine,” I said with a nod.

              He cleared his throat and looked back toward the house as he carried me up the stairs and over the threshold. Then, he walked me through the house. First floor: parlor, sitting room, study, kitchen, bathroom. Second Floor: his bedroom, an undecorated bedroom, and another bathroom. Our last stop was a nicely decorated room with fresh flowers on the night table. It was to be my bedroom.

              “I purchased a few dresses for you. They are in the closet. Feel free to have them altered or return them and buy fabric. Whatever you wish. I also bought a few ladies toiletries for you. You will find them in the vanity drawers. If you need anything feel free to take your horse or the carriage to town. Invite Mrs. Goodman if you wish,” he said.

              He was just spilling information and again I needed a moment to take it all in.

              “My horse?” I asked.

              “Yes, I bought her yesterday and she arrived this morning just before I arrived at the church,” he said. “A wedding present and assurance that I meant my word. You may do as you wish while I work.”

              He pointed out the window where there was a beautiful brown horse with a white patch on its hind quarters trotting around the exercise ring. There was also freshly cleared and tilled land.

              “You did all this for me in two days?” I asked.

              “I had started some projects once your letter confirmed you were coming, but yes,” he said. “I want this to feel like home for you. No matter what adventures you have each day, I want you to want to come back home to this house.

              I was speechless. His generosity was surprising.

He went back downstairs to retrieve my things. Then he excused himself to tend to the horse and carriage and a few other things in the yard. I organized my belongings quickly and went down to the kitchen. His cupboards were full and he had been to the butcher. I would prepare my new husband a delicious first meal as his wife.

              When he came back inside the kitchen hummed with the sound of simmer pots and pans and smelled of yeast and seasonings. He was in his socks, as he had left his boots at the door.

              “I didn’t expect all this the first night,” he said.

              He breathed deep and smiled rubbing his chest and stomach. I brought him a spoon to taste the gravy I had made.

              “You are a good cook,” he said.

              “Thank you,” I said.

              He seemed sincere in his complement. He washed up for dinner and had seconds on most of the meal. He helped me clear the table and dried dishes as I washed. After everything was clean he arranged some tools he needed for silver mining the next day as I read aloud.

              After a few chapters I bid him goodnight. We both went to bed in our separate rooms. After some time I could hear him snore through the wall. I fell asleep soon after.