Until There Was You(118)
“That was the most pathetic version of ‘Sweet Caroline’ I have ever heard,” she said, her voice shaking.
“You loved it,” he said.
She shrugged, but couldn’t help a smile. “You’re right.”
He stopped moving and pulled back a little, taking both her hands in his. His smile was gone. “Cordelia, you’re not a bag of bones,” he said, and her mouth fell open. “You weren’t back then, either. I mean, you were a little thing, but I only said that because… Oh, crap.” He sighed. “Rick Balin said he planned to, uh…sleep with you that night.”
Posey took a quick breath. The truth was, sex had never even crossed her mind. She hadn’t thought further than the prom itself.
“And I…” Liam shook his head. “I just said something stupid to put him off. It was an impulse or whatever. Because you were a good kid, and you didn’t deserve some idiot like Rick trying to…you know.”
So Rick had been planning to sleep with her—and Posey being barely sixteen, vastly inexperienced about the world of boys, and outweighed by probably a hundred pounds by a boy used to getting what he wanted…that could’ve been really bad.
Liam was looking at her solemnly. “I didn’t realize he’d drop you like that. I just thought maybe… I don’t know. I didn’t think it through, and then I completely forgot about it. I didn’t mean to ruin your night, and I’m really sorry.”
“Oh…I… That’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s actually a little…sweet, now that I know.”
He grinned, and her knees went weak. “I am pretty sweet.”
“Well, let’s not go overboard,” Posey said, though her heart was just as soft and mushy as all her other parts were becoming.
“Cordelia,” he said quietly, his smile fading. “I seem to be in love with you.”
The words were like sinking into a vat of warm caramel sauce. “Oh,” she whispered. “That’s…nice.” If she died now, that would be fine. Completely fine.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Will you forgive me for being an idiot, then and more recently? Because that image you have of me…I wouldn’t mind trying to live up to that.”
She let those words, and all the others, sink in. The past was never what you thought, was it? Liam Murphy had been protecting her honor—awkwardly, perhaps, but there it was. He’d been looking out for her, because that was the kind of man he was, and always had been.
“So?” he said, his eyes warm.
“Yeah, well, I’ll definitely think about it, Liam, and—”
“You should probably marry me.” He smiled. “When Nicole’s ready for a stepmother, yeah. You should marry me. I’ve never been so happy as I’ve been with you, Cordelia, and let’s face it, you’ve been in love with me half your life, more, maybe, and of course, I am incredibly good-looking and—”
“My God, the ego.” But she was crying, and laughing, and almost unable to take in what he was saying, her heart pounded so hard.
Liam’s face grew serious. “I’ll take good care of you, Cordelia. I promise.” Then he was kissing her, the gentle scrape of his five o’clock shadow, the heat and softness of his lips, and she melted against him, heart utterly light.
“Lovebirds?” It was Jon. “I hate to interrupt, especially since I’m filming this for YouTube, but pay attention.” Posey pulled back—with difficulty—and looked at her brother-in-law. “I’ve released you from chaperone duty. If you want to leave, you’re free to go.”
Posey and Liam looked at each other. “Nah,” Liam said. “I think I owe you a decent prom.”
And with that, he led her back into the ballroom. And danced with her.
And kissed her.
More than once.
Right in front of everyone.
EPILOGUE
Fifteen months later
IT SEEMED ONLY RIGHT that the first wedding at The Meadows in sixty-two years was Posey and Liam’s. The old mansion was still standing, oh, yes. And would continue to stand for a long, long time, if not forever.
On the first day of fall, Vivian Appleton died in her sleep at the age of 102. On the bureau across from her bed was the model Posey’d made, and it comforted her to know Vivian had had it close, that maybe The Meadows, even in miniature, had been the last thing Vivian had seen.
A month later, when Allan Linkletter asked her to come to his office for the reading of the will, she hoped it was because Viv had left her the model. It wasn’t worth anything much beyond its sentimental value.
She said hello to the Vultures, trying to be pleasant, despite the gleeful greed that glowed in their faces. “Took the old bag long enough,” muttered one of the nephews, and Posey stifled the urge to kick him in the nuts.
Allan wasted no time in getting down to business. When everyone was seated around the conference table, he read the preliminary legalese, and then paused and cleared his throat. The Vultures all leaned forward.
“‘To Cordelia Wilhelmina Osterhagen,’” Allan read, “‘I hereby give the land, buildings and their contents of The Meadows, my property located at 1100 Shady Brook Road, Bellsford, New Hampshire.’”
There’d been a moment of silence. Then chaos exploded, the four Vultures squawking, swearing, sobbing as Posey sat there, wide-eyed and stunned into silence. Eventually, Allan explained that the Vultures had no legal recourse at all. The will was iron-clad, witnessed, and Viv’s doctor had signed an affidavit that she’d been completely competent when she made the change. The Vultures didn’t have a talon to stand on.