At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories)(51)

"Here you go."

"Thank you." He took one sip then placed the glass on the coffee table in front of him. "Please sit, Graciela."

"I'd rather stand."

"I would feel more comfortable if you sat down while we talk."

That's exactly why I want to stand. She hesitated then sat on the arm of the chair across from him. Sam the Cat strolled into the room. Sam was very friendly by nature but she gave Simon Chase a wide berth. Smart cat, Gracie thought. There was nothing warm or comfortable about Noah's father. He was the stranger in her house yet he somehow made her feel as if she was the one who didn't belong.

She folded her hands on her lap so he wouldn't notice that she was trembling. "What is it you want to talk about?" It was almost three-thirty. She had a million things to do before she met Noah at the outskirts of town.

"You haven't had an easy life, have you, Graciela."

She frowned at him. "Is that a question?"

"Perhaps," he said, "but I would say it is a fact. Life hasn't been particularly kind to you."

"I have no complaints." Her throat felt tight. She had to force the words past her lips.

"No, you never did complain, did you. That's an admirable trait."

"My grandmother taught me how to stay focused."

He nodded. "Cordelia was a remarkable woman."

Gracie shifted position. "Is this going somewhere, Mr. Chase, because if not maybe we could—"

"I know about the wedding."

Simon's words hit her harder than her father's slap. Her world telescoped down to sound of those words. Everything else faded to black. It occurred to her that he might be bluffing, that he had a suspicion but nothing concrete, and he was simply trying to trick her into betraying her own secret.

She said nothing. Let him spell it out for her.

"I have friends in Portland," he said. "One of them called me this morning. Do you know which department she works in?"

Gracie still said nothing.

He leaned forward and reached into the breast pocket of his navy blazer. She watched as he withdrew a sheet of paper and unfolded it.

"I have a copy of a marriage license," he said, "for Graciela Marie Taylor and Noah Marlow Chase, three day waiting period, valid for ninety days in the state of Maine."

"I love Noah," she said quietly. What else was there to say to a man she barely knew who was about to become her father-in-law.

His expression seemed equal parts sorrow and dislike. She wasn't sure which part worried her more.

"This is, of course, a terrible mistake."

"We don't think so."

"You're both very young." He gestured with large elegant hands, tanned from the sun and spotted by age. "Much too young to marry."

"We disagree."

"Of course you would," he said, favoring her with a smile. "That is why I'm here, Graciela, to explain it to you."

She stood up. "I think you should go now."

He stayed seated. "I have more to say."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Chase, but I don't want to hear it. If you have something to say, you should say it to Noah and me together."

"You're an intelligent young woman," he said. "You seem to have your life planned out."

"I'm ambitious, if that's what you mean."

"My son isn't."

"I know that."

"If you two run off and get married, I'll cut him off without a cent."

She forced a laugh. "Look around you, Mr. Chase. Being poor is hardly something new for me."

"It would be something new for Noah."

"I think you underestimate him, Mr. Chase."

"You don't sound confident."

"You should go now. I don't want to have this conversation."

"Neither do I, Graciela, but it's necessary."

She watched as he again reached into the inside pocket of his blazer. This time he withdrew an envelope.

"Here," he said. "This is for you." Her name was written across the front in thick black ink.

She wrapped her arms around her chest. "No, thank you."

"Ten thousand dollars," he said. "In cash."

"A wedding gift?"

"You have a sense of humor. A thank-you for calling off the wedding."