The sounds of breaking china reverberated into the room. Betty kept her chin up as she looked toward the doorway. Jane stood there, mouth agape and a pile of broken dishes at her feet.
Father had lowered his newspaper at the sound of dishes breaking and glowered toward the kitchen. “I’m not scheduled to see James this morning.”
Betty held in the emotions rippling her insides. “Is he building a house or not?”
“Yes,” Father barked. “He’s waiting on materials.” He snapped his paper back up before his face. “We’ll discuss this after breakfast. Go help your sister and mother.”
“No.” It hurt to be so cold, so uncaring, but that was who she had to be. “They don’t need my help, and we will discuss this now. You are the one who wants me to marry James as soon as possible, so I will. There is a five-day waiting period. Then there will be a wedding.”
Father slapped his newspaper onto the table as Mother rushed into the room.
“Five days!” Mother exclaimed, clearly flustered. “Darling, that’s not possible. We don’t even have your dress yet.”
“I’ll wear one I already own,” Betty replied.
“No, you won’t, and there’s more than that. There’s the guests and—”
“Guests?” Betty huffed out a half chuckle, half sob. “I don’t have any friends.”
“That’s not true,” Mother said. “The church was full for Patsy’s wedding.”
“Because she married Lane. The church was full of his friends.” Betty shrugged. “If James has friends, he can invite them. Or not. I don’t care.”
“Betty Louise!” Mother exclaimed. “What has gotten into you?”
The truth. The blatant truth. “Nothing has gotten into me,” she answered. “This is merely my life.”
“Now, see here!” Father shouted. “You will not talk to your mother like that!”
She looked him straight in the eye. “Should I lie to her instead? Lock myself behind a gate?”
His eyes widened.
She didn’t so much as blink. “Like father, like daughter.”
He squirmed, slightly, but she saw it. Maybe she’d been wrong. She could break a rule when Henry wasn’t near.
“One more thing, those materials James is waiting on, I do hope they will be up to the building code standard.”
“Betty?” Mother had her hands pressed to her breastbone. “What are you talking about?”
“Father knows.” She’d said all she was going to say. Holding her composure, she turned and walked away, down the hallway and up the stairs.
She’d barely closed the door, when it flew back open and slammed shut.
“What are you thinking?” Jane asked. “Mother is sobbing. Father is yelling.”
Betty shrugged.
“Stop it!” Jane stomped a foot. “This isn’t you!” She planted her hands on her hips. “You can’t marry James!” Glancing at the door, she hissed, “You’re pregnant with Henry’s baby, remember?”
“Of course, I remember!” She’d always remember that. Always remember her baby’s father. “You heard Lane yesterday. Henry will take Elkin to Washington, DC, and be there for months while the trial is happening.”
“So?”
Betty sucked in air to fuel her resolve. “You said I can’t have a baby six months after I get married.”
Jane stared at her, mouth open and shaking her head. “You never told Henry, did you?”
Betty’s throat burned, so did her stomach full of guilt. That was another thing she’d have to learn to live with. “No. And I’m not going to.”
“You have to.”
“No, I don’t.” Her resolve was fading, fast. “I can’t. I can’t do that to him. You saw him yesterday. He’s an FBI agent. That’s his life.” She plopped down on the bed, and tried hard not to cry, but failed. “He doesn’t want a wife, or family. Everything he owns fits in one suitcase so he can go wherever, whenever. Chasing mobsters and villains.”
Jane sat down on the bed beside her, held her hand. “That could change, when he knows the truth.”
“That’s the problem,” Betty whispered. “I don’t want him to have to change. He’s never been loved and doesn’t ever want to be.” She didn’t know how to explain it, but felt it in her heart. “You saw him yesterday, with Elkin.”
“Yes, I did. Elkin was holding a gun on him,” Jane said. “What did you expect him to do?”
She’d gone over this a thousand times in her mind. “To do to exactly what he did,” she admitted. “And I have a baby to think about.”
Jane squeezed her hand harder and leaned her head against hers. “Yes, you do. What if James treats you and the baby terribly? What if he—”
“Is like Father?” She shrugged. “I’ve lived with that my whole life.”
Jane sat up straight and shook her head. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you.”
“It’s not your choice—it’s mine.”
“No.” Jane stood up. “If you won’t tell Henry, then I will.”
Betty stood, faced her sister, and laid down the ultimatum. “Then I’ll tell Father about us sneaking out. For months.”
Disbelief filled Jane’s face. “You wouldn’t.”
“Yes, I would. Because this isn’t about me, or you, or even Henry. It’s about my baby, and I won’t take the chance, take any chance, that this baby will be taken away from me like Aunt Joan’s was, because we both know Father will do that before he’d let me marry Henry.” Determined, she continued, “Marrying James is the only way that’s not going to happen.”
“There has to be—”
“No, there’s not.” She was breaking, inside and out. Sitting on the bed, she wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “You said it a moment ago. This isn’t me. And that’s why I have to do this. Henry... Marrying him...” She shook her head. “It would be as if I was trying to be someone I’m not.”
Jane knelt down in front of her, cupped her cheeks. “What if marrying him would be your chance to be who you are?”
The Dryer home grew even more solemn than usual over the course of the next two days. Betty didn’t care. James had
