It was a good thing Summer was sitting down. “You mean to say I went through all that grief and left you for nothing?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh.”
James gathered her in his arms. “Summer, whatever I am, whatever I may become, I’m nothing without you.”
Summer sobbed into his shoulder.
“Winning the election would be an empty victory if you weren’t standing at my side. I want you to share that moment with me. I love you, Summer, and I love our babies, too.”
“Oh, James, I’ve been so unhappy. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Don’t ever leave me again. It was like I’d lost my mind, my heart—everything—until I saw you standing at the end of that pier.”
Summer tightened her arms around him.
Walter tapped on the door. “Can I come in yet?”
“No,” James growled.
“So have you two settled your differences?”
“We’re working on it,” Summer called out.
“Then I’ll leave you to your reunion.”
“Good night, Dad,” James said in what was an obvious hint for his father to leave.
“’Night, kids. Kiss and make up, okay?”
“We’re going to do a lot more than kiss,” James whispered in her ear.
“Promises, promises, promises,” she murmured.
“You can bet I’ll make good on these.”
Thirteen
“This is my wife, Summer,” James said, his arm around her thick waist. Although she was only six months pregnant, she looked closer to nine.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” the older woman said.
“Who was that again?” she whispered to James.
“Emily Rohrbaugh, president of the League of Women Voters.”
“Oh. I don’t know how you remember all these names. I’m impressed.”
“I’m more impressed that you can remember all your lines in Beauty and the Beast,” he said. “But here’s my little trick for recalling names. I try to tie them in with something else,” James told her. “Some kind of object or action.”
“Rohrbaugh is something of a challenge, don’t you think?” Summer raised her eyebrows.
“Roar and baa,” he said under his breath. “Think of a lion and a lamb. A lion roars and a lamb goes baa. Rohrbaugh.”
Summer’s face lit up with a bright smile. “No wonder I married you. You’re brilliant.”
“I bet you won’t have a problem remembering Emily the next time you meet.”
“I won’t.”
“She’s a good friend of Elizabeth Manning’s,” James said, feeding his wife a seedless grape. It was a test of his restraint not to kiss her afterward. One would assume his desire for her would fade after all these months; if anything, quite the opposite had occurred. She was never more beautiful to him than now, heavy with their children.
“Elizabeth Manning?” Summer repeated. “I didn’t think she’d be the political type.”
“She isn’t,” James said. They mingled with the crowd gathered on the patio of an influential member of the state senate. “But the two of them have been friends since high school.”
“I see.”
“Do you need to sit for a while?”
“James,” she groaned. “Stop worrying about me.”
He glanced down at her abdomen. “How are Mutt and Jeff?”
She circled her belly with both hands. “I swear these two are going to be world-class soccer players.”
James chuckled, reaching for an hors d’oeuvre from one of the several platters set around the sunny patio. He gave it to Summer.
“James, I don’t believe I’ve met your wife.”
James recognized the voice—William Carr, the president of the Bar Association. He quickly made the introductions. He never worried about Summer saying the wrong thing or inadvertently embarrassing him. She had a natural way about her that instantly put people at ease. She was charming and open and genuine. These political functions weren’t her idea of a good time, but she never complained. She seemed eager to do whatever she could to aid his campaign and had proved to be the asset he knew she would be.
“I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said warmly as they exchanged handshakes.
The obvious topic of conversation was Summer’s pregnancy, which they discussed but only briefly. She managed to deftly turn the conversation away from herself, and soon Carr was talking about himself, laughing over the early days when his wife was pregnant with their oldest child.
After ten minutes or so, Summer excused herself.
“She’s an excellent conversationalist,” William Carr commented as she walked away.
James did his best to hide a smile. It amused him that Carr could do most of the talking and then act as if Summer had been the one carrying the discussion.
“It seems strange to think of you as married,” the attorney said next.
“When I’m with Summer, I wonder why I ever waited so long.”
Carr shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “If I’d given you advice before you were appointed to the court, it would’ve been to marry.”
“Really?” This came as a shock to James.
“You’re a fine young man, and I expect great things from you. Just between you, me and the fence post, I think you’re doing an excellent job.”
“I hope so,” James said, but there were some who weren’t as confident as William Carr. Generally those under the influence of Ralph Southworth. To James’s surprise, Southworth had managed to prejudice several supporters against him.
“You remind me of myself thirty years back,” Carr told him.
James considered this high praise. “Thank you.”
“But you needed a little softening around the edges. You came off as strong and unbending. Not a bad thing for a judge, mind you, but being a little more human wouldn’t have hurt.”
“I see.” James didn’t like hearing this but knew it was for his own good, however uncomfortable it might be.
“It’s easy to sit in judgment of others when you live in an ivory tower.”
James frowned uncertainly. “I don’t understand.”