By Proxy (22 page)

Wedding vows should only be said once to one person. You have no business doing this.

Her heart started pounding and she couldn’t seem to take a good, deep breath. She breathed in, closing her eyes, and then opened them while she breathed out, but it didn’t help. Still staring down, she saw Sam’s hand move toward her before she felt it take hers.

“
Jenny
!” he whispered sharply and she looked up to see tender concern etched on his handsome face. Then gently, “Just look at me. Just look at me.”

She swallowed and nodded at him once, holding his warm, confident eyes in her nervous, frightened ones. She breathed in slowly until her diaphragm was finally full and let out her breath slowly. He mouthed it again slowly, with a calming intensity, releasing her hand. “
Just look at me
.”

The door opened and a white-haired man in his seventies entered, sorting through papers. He took the chair at the head of the table between Sam and Jenny.

“Thanks for being on time, folks.” He rifled through the papers, and Jenny handed him the sheet the secretary had given to her. “Ah, yes. Okay. Here it is.” He put on glasses, reading the paper briefly, then turned his glance up to greet the witnesses.

“Mary, John, good to see you both. Thanks for witnessing today. Ummm. Sam?” He turned to Sam, absentmindedly scanning the paper before him. “And Jenny?” She nodded once, still holding Sam’s eyes. “Have you folks ever stood proxy before?”

“No,” Sam answered for them.

“Okay, well, it’s painless and quick. Jenny, I’m going to ask you Ingrid’s vows, and you will simply answer twice with the words ‘I will.’ Sam, then I’ll turn to you on behalf of Kristian and you’ll do the same. Then I’ll declare them husband and wife, and you’ll be free to go.” He signed something on the bottom of the paper, scooting it to Mary, who signed and scooted it to John. John scooted it back to the judge with practiced efficiency. “Shall we get started?”

***

“We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses to join in holy matrimony Ingrid Nordstrom and Kristian Svenson, who have applied for and received a marriage license from this state.

“Jenny, first to you. Will you have this man by proxy to be your lawful wedded husband, and with him to live together in holy matrimony pursuant to the laws of God and this state?”

Jenny heard the judge say her name, but otherwise his voice was a faraway baritone of sound. Sam held her eyes fiercely, and she stayed focused on his beautiful face. His reddish-blond hair was tousled and wavy, and his brown eyes held her blue ones with unwavering care. Finally he mouthed, “I will,” encouraging her to whisper the words.

“I will.”

He nodded imperceptibly as she spoke, and the corners of his mouth twitched up for the barest moment.

“Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him both in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep you only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”

Her heart pounded as she really listened to the words, glancing down at the table in a moment of pure panic. A short tap-tap on the table in front of her made her look up into Sam’s eyes again, which reached out to her, his lips turning up in an encouraging smile. She lost herself in his eyes, allowing him to hold her up above the water line so she could breathe, so she wouldn’t drown. He mouthed the words.

“I will.”

He smiled at her then, and she knew her part was finished. She broke their eye contact and stared down at the table before her, exhaling raggedly, shoulders rolled forward in defeat.

“Now, Sam. Will you have this woman by proxy to be your lawful wedded wife, and with her to live together in holy matrimony pursuant to the laws of God and this state?”

“I will.”

His voice was breathy and emotional, and Jenny couldn’t help but look up. He must have been staring intently at her bowed head because her lifted eyes slammed into his. He swallowed and his shoulders relaxed in relief, his eyes devouring hers, not letting her leave him again to look away.

“Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her both in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep you only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”

As Sam nodded slowly at Jenny with a heartbreaking tenderness, his lips tilted up in a sad, tender smile.

“I will,” he answered, eyes only for Jenny.

“By the virtue of the authority vested in me by the state of Montana, I now pronounce Ingrid Nordstrom and Kristian Svenson husband and wife by double proxy marriage.”

The judge scribbled on his notes as the witnesses filed out of the room. If Jenny or Sam had looked up, they would have noticed him pause at the door, looking back and forth between the young couple before smiling knowingly and closing the door silently behind him.

They stared at each other across the table until Jenny finally stood up slowly, unable to look away from Sam, holding his eyes wildly, as though she might die if she let them go. He stood up, too, moving around the head of the table with urgent purpose to stand before her. Reaching out to cup her face in his hands, his lips came down on hers in a possessive, hungry kiss. Tears flooded Jenny’s eyes, and they fluttered closed as she surrendered to him for the last time.

***

Jenny’s heart was breaking. Sam held her to him like she was about to be ripped away by some evil force, beseeching her.

“
Please
come to Chicago.”

She rested her cheek on his shoulder, her lips raw from kissing him, her hands flattened against his back. “I can’t, Sam. I’m just Jenny in western boots teaching kids, helping out at church, spending time with my Dad and my brothers. I can’t just leave them and move 1,500 miles away. There’s no use in me visiting.” She leaned back and looked into his face, shaking her head back and forth. The words rushed out of her mouth: “Why do you have to be in Chicago?”

“Jenny, my life is there. My job, my contacts, my clients, my apartment—
everything
. You can’t possibly think I could actually live in Gardiner?” His face was hard and angry. Incredulous, even.

Her face flushed hot, and she pulled back from his arms abruptly, crossing hers over her chest protectively. “I’d never dream of it, Sam. I’d never want you to
lower
yourself to living somewhere as beneath you as Gardiner.”

“That’s not true—”

“True? You want truth? Your life in Chicago is about as deep as a puddle. Your money, your schmoozing, your parties, your plastic Christmas trees, your bimbos—”

“That’s not fair, Jenny.”

“Surrounded by shallow, selfish people who couldn’t care less if you died in a car crash, but you’d choose them over—”

“Oh, wow! How about you, Jenny, all Miss High-and-Mighty-Know-It-All? Want some truth? How about you giving up on your dream in Great Falls and coming home to Gardiner to hide your head in the sand?”

“How
dare
you! I came back to take care of my mother, and—”

“And you stayed. This wasn’t your dream for yourself and it sure as hell wasn’t her dream for you. This wasn’t where you wanted to be. This is where you
gave up
. Where you
sold out
. Don’t lecture me about the life I have.”

Her chest rose and fell with the painful force of her breathing, and she stared at him like she didn’t know him. Shivering, she took in the hard anger of his face. She whispered more to herself than to him. “This never would have worked out.”

“
Clearly
,” he fumed. His voice was angry but ragged and out of control, like she imagined it would be before tears.

“Well, then, it’s good it didn’t,” she whispered, still looking down.

He struggled into his coat, punching his hands down through the sleeves. “Know what, Jen? You can always go running to Principal Paul and make sure
all
of your dreams
don’t
come true.”

Her face snapped up to meet his, an ocean of unshed tears brightening her furious eyes. She grabbed her coat and slapped her bag over her shoulder in a hurried, angry motion. “And I am sure
you
can find another beautiful, self-centered Pepper Pettway and never have anything
close
to the marriage your parents had. So,
bully
for
you
!”

“GREAT!” he shouted, face red and furious. “I guess we’ll
both
be very happy.”

“I guess so!” Her heart was racing, and she knew she was on the brink of violent, relentless tears. She couldn’t hold them back much longer.

He shook his head back and forth like someone in shock and rubbed his jaw between his thumb and forefinger before he put out his hand. “Well, good-bye, Jenny. It’s been—”

“Good-bye, Sam.” She didn’t touch his hand. She turned and rushed out of the room, through the corridor, down the stairs, across the lobby and through the double doors into the cold Montana air. It hit her face like needles, making tears spill down her face in torrents. Only when she reached her car did she finally surrender completely to her sorrow, wrenching sobs filling the otherwise quiet of her car all the way back to Gardiner. 

Chapter 10

“Sammy!” Ron Johnson knocked lightly on the door to his office. “Good weekend?”

Sam looked up from the documents he’d been reviewing. He shrugged. “It was fine.”

“Where were you again? Minnesota?”

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. “Montana.”

“Ouch! The boonies! Kill me now!” Ron said, inviting himself to sit in one of Sam’s guest chairs. “You missed an awesome time at the Spy Bar on Saturday. Remember that cute Asian chick? She. Was. On. Seriously, I was fighting her off, man. And tell me this, Sam-bro, are you ready to PAR-TAY next Friday?” Sam raised his eyebrows in question. “
The Christmas Party
, man!”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, right. Well, you know me…”

“Another year to remember, eh?” Ron winked. “You old dog!”

Sam scoffed uncomfortably, looking down at his desk, rapping his pen on the desk softly, distractedly. “Yeah…”

Ron popped up and headed for the door. “And no girlfriend this year, Sammy. You’re a free agent, man! Some lucky lady’s gonna get it!”

“Yeah. A free agent.” He smiled and saluted a departing Ron, then threw his pen across his desk where it hit his stapler with a loud clatter.

“A free agent,” he muttered, clenching his jaw until it ached, seeing Jenny’s pretty face in his mind and using all of his energy to push it away.

She doesn’t want to be with you, Sam. Let her go.

He turned his attention back to the spreadsheets, determined to overcome this infatuation.

***

After work, Sam started his Christmas shopping, hoping that being out and about among the citizens of his fair city would give his spirits a lift. Colleen had sent him a list of books for the girls, and in lieu of five minutes online at Amazon he decided to go to Barnes & Noble on the way home and buy the books himself.

He admired the huge Christmas wreaths on the windows of the store as he approached the front door, noticing the Gingerbread Village on display in the front picture window
. See, Jenny? Christmas cheer, right here in terrible, awful Chicago!

It wasn’t real gingerbread, of course, but it was still festive; a gingerbread mountain village covered with precise white glitter, a working train at the base of the mountain, and a tiny chair lift that magically transported tiny gingerbread men and women to the plastic brown gingerbread chalet at the top of the mountain. Once there, they skied down the glittery slope on plastic licorice-looking skis and were picked up by the tiny chairlift once again. Several young children crowded around the window, watching the scene with wonder.

Sam smiled too, but his cheer faded to poignancy as he recalled the messy white gingerbread house he and Jenny had seen in the window of the saddler’s shop during the Christmas Stroll. She had named the messy confection her favorite and he had called her a “soft touch.” Then she smiled at him, sharing, “I love the little ones.” He could see her blue eyes sparkling before him, the gentle curve of her lips, the sweet—

“Excuse me! Mister! You’ve had a turn to look! It’s for the kids! Can my daughter take a peek now?” The woman behind him tapped him on his shoulder, pushing her chubby daughter forward. The girl’s lollipop snagged on his cashmere coat, sticking there and drooping sadly as he stepped out of her way, stumbling backward, moving away from the crowd of children.

He’d only left her two days ago, but it felt so much longer. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way they’d said good-bye—or
hadn’t
said good-bye. It hurt him to remember her face as she’d run from the room where, just moments before, they’d shared the most soul-shattering kiss of his life. The same room where he’d held her beautiful, sad eyes and whispered “I will” to her. The same room where minutes later she’d declared “This never would have worked out.”

He clenched his jaw with sorrow and regret and frustration, dodging around people until he found some open sidewalk where he walked at a fast, angry clip. Taking a deep breath of cold air that burned his lungs, he scolded himself.
Stop thinking about her! It’s over. Let it go.

The doorman opened the bronze and glass door of his apartment building and he stepped inside the warm, chic lobby, surprised to find himself home, his plans for Christmas shopping ambushed by ceaseless thoughts of Jenny Lindstrom.

***

When Sam’s business school friends texted him to meet them at Club Blue, it seemed like a good idea: get out and about, see some friends, remember how much great nightlife Chicago had to offer. He put on some jeans, a white button-down shirt and a navy blazer, slicking his hair back and dousing his cheeks with aftershave.

Looking good,
he thought, glancing in the lobby mirror before hailing a cab in a ritual as familiar as breathing.
You’ve got this.
This is just what you need.

The music seemed louder and more grating than usual but he tried to stay positive as he pushed his way through a throng of people to get closer to the bar. Slogging sideways through the wall of hot, sweaty humanity he finally made his way to Joe.