“Until you married Summer, your life was a bit...sterile. Protected. If you don’t mind my saying so... A married man knows how to compromise. I imagine you’ve done things to make your wife happy that you wouldn’t normally do.”
He nodded.
“In my opinion, marriage matures a man. It helps him sympathize and identify with his fellow humans.”
“Are you trying to tell me I was a stodgy stuffed shirt before I married Summer?” James asked outright.
William Carr seemed taken aback by his directness, then grinned. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“That’s what I thought.” James reached for a tiny crab puff.
“By the way, I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. That multiple homicide was your first murder trial, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” To be honest, he was happy it was over. The ordeal had proved to be exhausting for everyone involved. The jury had found the young man guilty, and after careful deliberation, James had pronounced the sentence.
His name and face had appeared on television screens every night for weeks. It went without saying that a lot of people were watching and waiting to see how he’d rule. Liberals were looking for leniency, and hard-liners wanted the death penalty. James had agonized over the sentence.
There were more victims than the ones who were shot during those hours of madness. Three families had lost loved ones. Seventeen others would always carry the mark of a madman’s gun. Innocent lives had been forever changed.
James had delivered a sentence he felt was fair. He didn’t try to satisfy any political factions, although the outcome of the election could well rest on his judgment. He’d sentenced the killer to life without the possibility of parole, with mandatory psychiatric treatment.
It would’ve been impossible to keep everyone happy, so his decision had been based on what he considered equitable for all concerned. Some were pleased, he knew, and others were outraged.
“Thank you,” James said, “I appreciate your vote of confidence.”
“The decisions won’t get any easier,” William Carr told him. The older man grabbed a stuffed green olive and popped it in his mouth.
“The bar will be taking their opinion poll about the time your wife’s due to have those babies of yours.”
James knew that whether or not the results were published was at the discretion of the bar. The vote could sway the November election.
Summer returned just then, looking tired. Despite her smile, William Carr seemed to realize this. He wished them his best and drifted away.
“Are you ready to leave?” James asked.
“No,” she protested. “We’ve barely arrived.”
“We’re going.” His mistake was in asking her; he should’ve known to expect an argument.
He made their excuses, thanked the host and hostess and urged Summer toward their parked car. Her progress was slow, and he knew she was uncomfortable, especially in the heat.
“Charlotte’s due in two weeks,” she said when he helped her inside. She sighed as she eased into the seat. The seat belt barely stretched all the way around her.
James paused. “What’s that comment about Charlotte about?”
“I envy her. Look at me, James!”
“I am looking at you,” he said, and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“I don’t believe you,” she muttered.
“You’d better, because it wouldn’t take much to convince me to prove it right here and now.”
“James, honestly.”
“I am being honest.”
She smiled, and he couldn’t resist kissing her a second time.
After they got home, Summer sat outside in the sunshine. She propped her feet on a stool, and her hands rested on her stomach.
James brought her a glass of iced tea.
She smiled her appreciation. “You spoil me.”
“That’s because I enjoy it.” He sat down next to her. “I don’t suppose you’ve thought about packing up and leaving me lately?”
Summer giggled. “Once or twice, but by the time I finished dragging out my suitcases, I was too tired to go.”
“You’re teasing.”
“Of course I’m teasing.”
“Speaking of suitcases, do you have one ready for the hospital?”
“Aren’t we being a little premature?”
“Who knows what Mutt and Jeff are thinking.” James’s hand joined hers. It thrilled him to feel his children move inside her. “And this time you might want to take more than your toothbrush, a book and your bedroom slippers.”
“That goes to show you the mental state I was in.”
“Never again,” James said firmly.
Summer propped her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Never again,” she agreed.
* * *
The day of the September primary, Summer woke feeling sluggish and out of sorts. Getting out of bed was a task of monumental proportions. She felt as if she needed a forklift.
James was already up and shaved. He’d been watching her carefully all week. To everyone’s surprise, including her doctor’s, Summer hadn’t delivered the twins yet. She’d read that twins were often born early. But not Mutt and Jeff, as they’d been affectionately named by James.
“Most babies aren’t born on their due dates, so stop looking so worried. This is your day.” She sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her hand to the small of her back.
James offered her his arm to help her upright. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t know yet.” The pain at the base of her spine had kept her awake most of the night. It didn’t seem to go away, no matter how often she changed her position.
“When are we voting?” she asked.
“First thing this morning,” James told her.
“Good.”
“Why is that good?” he asked anxiously. “Do you think today’s the day?”
“James, stop! I’m in perfect health.”
“For someone nine months pregnant with twins, you mean.”
Summer swore that somehow, God willing, she’d make it through this day. James was so tender and endearing, but she didn’t want him worrying about her during the primary.
They gathered, together with Walter, at the large Manning home for the election results that evening. Summer was pleased for the opportunity to be with her friends.