By Proxy(19)

“Wow. You really take a pound of flesh!” He segued quickly from sexy to playful in his head, finding he enjoyed the banter between them.

“You said you wouldn’t tease me, and you did.” She opened her laptop and let it warm up for a moment. She seemed to stare at a spot on the opposite wall for a second, lost in thought. “It bothers me.”

He placed Casey back in her playpen and sighed, crossing the room to sit down next to her. “Hey…I can’t help it. I tease. That’s just how I—”

“Oh! Not that.” She turned to him with serious eyes, and as her shoulder brushed his he realized how close they were sitting next to each other. “I mean, I don’t love your teasing, but I’m the youngest of four. I can handle it whether I like it or not.” She paused, furrowing her brows in thought, then continued softly. “What bothers me is the vows.”

“Saying the vows for Ingrid and Kris?”

“Yes and no. I mean, I want to help Ingrid. I’ve known her since we were little girls and I love her. It’s just…saying those words. You know. For the first time with…”

“With me,” he supplied, searching her face to understand her better. Looking at her eyes he realized that what she was saying stung a little, which made no sense at all.

“Yes. But, not because you’re not perfectly nice—”

“Oh, I’m perfectly nice?”

“No. I mean, yes. You’re…well, you’re fine. That’s not the—”

“Jenny?”

“What?”

“Take a breath and just say what you’re trying to say.”

She did as he suggested, then faced him and met his eyes without blushing for the first time he could remember. “This has nothing to do with you, Sam. I mean, except you happen to be the person Kristian asked to be his proxy. Here’s what it is: it bothers me to say the words.” She stopped and looked down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I know I’m not actually taking the vows. I know we’re not getting married, no matter how much you tease. It’s just, I always thought that I would only say those words once.

“Once,” she repeated wistfully. “One time that would last forever, you know? At Grace Church with Pappa and my brothers…and a man I love standing next to me…in front of God and the whole world…with my Mom looking down, smiling.” She looked back down, blinking, and he realized that she was trying not to cry. “Oh, gosh, I’m being silly. I’ll still have that moment. I mean, I hope I will. Someday. Anyway. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Sam replied quietly, affected by her words and feelings. “It matters to you.”

She typed in her username and password. Her voice was strong when she responded, brooking no contradiction. “No. It doesn’t matter, and there’s nothing I can do about it now anyway. I promised Ingrid.”

There had to be another way. “Hey, maybe we could find someone else to stand in for you? That old bat at the courthouse has to know someone…”

“A proxy for a proxy?” She chuckled ruefully. “No. A promise is a promise. Ingrid’s so far away in Germany and Kristian’s in Afghanistan…this is the least I can do, Sam.” She looked up from her computer, and gave him another one of those real smiles that made his insides run riot. “It’s okay. It really is. I feel much better now that I’ve told you.”

That took his breath away.

“Do you want coffee? I’m having a cup.” She put her laptop to the side and headed into the kitchen. She turned when she got to the doorway and looked at him quizzically. “Sam? Coffee?”

He shook his head no, offering a weak smile in response. She cocked her head to the side regarding him, then smiled back briefly before turning into the kitchen. He heard her opening cabinets and talking to Casey. He relaxed into the couch, glad she left the room for a few minutes.

He was incredibly touched by her admission, her candor, the depth of her feelings and her selflessness in light of them. A wave of protectiveness overcame him as he thought about her words, I feel much better now that I’ve told you. He felt unworthy to have inadvertently offered her such comfort. Who was he to comfort her?

She is like no one.

But, his mother’s face flitted briefly through his head, debunking that thought. Sam’s roots were solid and decent, his upbringing grounded in goodness and respect. Maybe he’d lost his way for a while, dating someone like Pepper. Just thinking of her now—all the nights he’d wasted lying beside her—made Sam flush with shame. Jenny and Pepper didn’t operate in the same stratosphere, one totally consumed with herself at the cost of others, and the other willing to face personal discomfort to help someone she loved.