Cancel the Wedding (32 page)

We were both laughing as we got to our feet. My head was throbbing and Elliott was holding his lower back.

He saw me holding my head and asked, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, but it hurt. We stumbled into the house together to make sure it hadn't started bleeding again.

Elliott teased me as he checked the stitches. “You did that on purpose to garner sympathy from me.”

That made me laugh. I gingerly touched the back of my head. “It's not bleeding again is it? This stupid thing still hurts.”

“Maybe you should stop falling on it.”

Elliott declared my wound okay. We spent the remainder of the evening in the safety of the rocking chairs out on the porch listening to the night sounds on the lake and talking about George and Janie and unknown gravesites.

When Logan got home from her date with Graham, Elliott gathered up his things to head home. I walked him out to the street and we made plans for him to come back in the morning for breakfast.

He said, “I have a surprise for you. I should have it all by tomorrow.”

“What is it?”

“It's a surprise.” He kissed the bump on my head lightly. “Can you make it back into the house by yourself? You might trip over a crack and lose a leg.”

“You're mean.” I pushed him down the sidewalk.

“You're a klutz.”

“I hate you.”

He called over his shoulder, “Ha! No, you don't. You love me.”

Elliott was walking away from me, down the sidewalk.
You love me.
Something possessed me in that instant and I closed the distance to him without even thinking. He heard me coming and turned just in time to catch me as I threw myself at him, nearly knocking him over into the bushes. I was holding on to him so tightly my feet weren't touching the ground. I couldn't keep it up. I couldn't keep maintaining a distance from him. I couldn't keep saying good-night and letting him go at the end of the evening. Elliott kissed me back with so much passion it was a wonder our clothes didn't simply fall off. He kissed me down my neck and my ear and mumbled something into my hair.

“What . . .”

He said it again. “Come home with me.”

Speech was becoming increasingly difficult. As was standing upright. I just nodded my head.

The porch light burst on behind us and we stopped for a second, breathing heavily. I had forgotten about Logan.

She cleared her throat from the porch. “Aunt Liv, my mom's on the phone.” I saw her put the phone back to her ear. “Just a sec, Mom.”

Elliott's fingers were still digging into my back. His grip released and I slid down him until my feet touched the ground again. He laughed a little to himself and made a strange grunting sound. He kissed the top of my head, spun me around by the shoulders, and gave me a little push toward the house.

I grabbed the phone from Logan and did a cursory check of my clothing making sure that everything was securely fastened in its upright and fully locked position.

“Hi, Gigi.” I sounded winded. “What's up?”

“What were you doing?”

“Saying good-night to Elliott.”

“You do remember that you're chaperoning my daughter, right?”

I know, and she's making a damn fine human chastity belt if you don't mind me saying.
“Lo's fine. I'm fine. Our virtues are intact.”

Georgia made a noise into the phone that sounded like she doubted my statement.
Rude.

She said, “I'm coming down there the day after tomorrow.”

“What? No, wait. We got all of these letters today from the cemetery. I don't even know what they mean.”

“Livie, it's time.”

I felt slightly deflated. “I'm not quite ready for that yet. To spread the ashes, I mean. There are some new things, and I haven't figured it all out yet.”

“Figured what out, Liv? She was married before. He died. This thing's over. You need to bury Mom and come home.”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“You've been gone for over a month! I miss Logan. I'm tired of lying to Leo. You need to finish this thing and come home.”

She sounded tired and angry. I didn't really know what to say to her. When I thought of leaving this place, and Elliott, it made me feel lost. Homesick. I felt like being anywhere but here, here with him, would make it hard for me to breathe. I said quietly and with very little conviction, “It'll be good to see you. I'm glad you're coming. We'll talk when you get here.” Then I hung up the phone.

Elliott showed up for breakfast the next morning with the surprise he had promised. I didn't mention that Georgia would be driving down the next day. I didn't want to think about what that might mean and I certainly didn't want Elliott to have to worry about it. The surprise was a good one; it turned out to be yearbooks. He and Bitsy, the librarian, had managed to dig up the yearbooks from eight out of twelve years of my mother's school career. I devoured them over breakfast.

My favorite picture of my mom was when she was in the third grade. She was standing in the front row of her small class and she had a huge grin on her face exposing the gap where two of her front teeth had been. I found Florence standing next to the teacher. George and Oliver were standing in the back row. George looked neatly pressed; Oliver looked recently beaten.

When I looked at the yearbook from her senior year it seemed to me as if every image of Janie and George held a secret. I stared at the pixelated images of their eyes to see if they held any hints of what was to come. That they would be getting married in two short years. That he would be dead too soon after that.

I had marked all of the pages that held pictures of them or any mention of my mother. I flipped again to the formal senior portrait of Janie. It was still strange to see images of her so young. I had never realized how much Georgia and I resembled her until we got our hands on these pictures from her youth.

I looked at Elliott as he finished his coffee. “Thank you for finding these. You're amazing.”

He smiled. “Yes, I am. I'm also late.” He cleared his breakfast dishes. “Does Logan need a ride to work?”

“No, she's off today. I am going to wash my hair, again.” My fingers ran over the area of stitches and the stiff surrounding hair. “Then I think we're going shopping. Will you come back after work?” I thought,
We need to talk.

“Of course. Do you want me to bring dinner?”

“No, I actually have some stuff to cook.”

He feigned surprise. “She's cooking?”

“She
might
cook. If you're a good boy.”

Elliott straightened up slowly and looked as if his mind were very far away. He was staring at the wall of pictures and articles from my quixotic quest. He had just been struck by some revelation. “What did you just say?”

I tried to remember exactly what I had said so that it could trigger the thought that was clearly forming in his mind. “I said that I would cook for you. If you were a good boy.”

It clicked in his brain; I could see it on his face. “Huh. I think I've just had one of those honest to God newspaperman hunches.”

“What is it? What are you thinking?” I tried to follow his line of sight so I could decipher it too.

He shook his head. “I'm not sure. And you've had enough dead ends. I'll look it up and if there's anything to it I'll let you know.”

I took his face in my hands. “Tell me now.”

He kissed me then he pulled away to say something, but I pulled him back. He started laughing. “You're very convincing, but I'll see if there's anything to it first. See you at dinner.”

“Fine.” I let him go and then turned to stare at the wall. Perhaps inspiration could strike twice. But it looked the same as it always looked to me. There didn't seem to be any new information or knowledge. It was no use. I gave up and called out to Logan. “Okay, missy. Let's go shopping.”

Logan and I walked into town to go clothes shopping. Her fifteenth birthday was in a few days and she wanted clothes for her present. It was not easy. Apparently the dress designers had decided that fifteen is a good age to start making girls look like hookers.

We managed to find some things that we both agreed on and were now walking through the square contemplating an early lunch.

Logan was looking past me, over my shoulder. She stopped in her tracks, and her eyes got huge. “Holy shit.”

I snapped, “Don't curse, Lo. Your mom will kill me.” I turned around to look in the direction she was staring, toward the inn. I saw the familiar gait and the back of his head walking toward the valet stand. “Holy shit.”

Logan sounded as panicky as I felt. “What is Uncle Leo doing here?”

I was having a hard time breathing. I glanced around to see if anyone else had spotted him. Which was absurd since no one here even knew Leo.

I had an urge to run to Elliott's house and hide. Or run to my car and drive away. Or run to the lake and swim across it until I was out of sight. My heart was racing with adrenaline and mostly I just felt like running. Leo walked into the inn after finding the valet stand empty.

I took a deep breath and walked toward the inn. Logan was mercifully silent as she walked next to me. When we got there I hesitated before going inside. Logan gave me a hug and told me she was going to give us some time to talk.

I walked into the inn and took a second for my eyes to adjust after being out in the sunshine. And after being temporarily blinded by seeing Leo. I glanced around the lobby and spotted him chatting with Betty Chatham. Great. Now it would be all over town that I had a fiancé and was cheating on Elliott.

Wait, what was I saying? I wasn't a part of this town. Or these people. And I was cheating on Leo, not Elliott. Right? Either way I had a pit in my stomach at all of the things I was about to break.

I was walking over to him when Leo saw me. He rushed toward me and gave me a familiar hug. I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I took an early flight into Atlanta and drove up. I just got in.” He sounded more sarcastic than excited as he said, “Surprise.”

“I am surprised.” I couldn't think of anything else to say.

He kept talking. “I was just asking the manager—”

I cut in. “Betty's actually the owner.”

“Okay, then I was asking
the owner
for some directions.” Leo was holding a piece of paper with my rental house address scrawled on it. “I couldn't find your house. All these one-way streets turned me around.” He hugged me again stiffly and I could feel the tension mounting between us.

Betty was watching me from behind the desk while pretending to arrange some flowers. I took Leo's hand and pulled him outside to his rental car. “Let's go. We need to talk.”

“I know we do. That's why I came down here.” We were quiet as I directed him to the rental house.

He dropped his overnight bag inside the door and said, “Do you remember what your mom used to say? If you want to see how someone really feels about you, show up unannounced.”

Clearly I had just failed his first test. “My mom never said that.”

Leo stood his ground. “Yes, she did.”

“No, she didn't. It was my dad. He used to say it.” I probably wouldn't get any points for that parry, and now I was on the defensive. Failure number two.

There was an awkward silence as I digested the fact that he had shown up here unannounced to gauge my reaction. It was a tactic. Which meant that this was a battle. Which led me to the conclusion that we were already on stage two of the breakup without me ever even firing a shot.

I wasn't sure how to proceed from here. We both remained silent as Leo wandered slowly around the little rental house, taking it all in. I was waiting to see which one of us would crack first. Who was I kidding? I would crack first. I could never keep my mouth shut and Leo was very firm on the first rule of negotiating: the first one to talk loses.

Let the babbling begin. “I am happy to see you, Leo. I was just surprised.”

His eyes were firm, not letting any emotion creep in at the moment and his guard was up. Locked and loaded. He said pointedly, “I'm here to help you put your mother to rest. I know it's important to you and regardless of . . . I wanted to be here for you. That's why you came down here.” He was flipping through the accumulation of research, pictures, printouts, and maps strewn across the dining room table, shaking his head. “Before you escalated everything anyway.” He looked away from the Janie Jones project and back to me.

“So . . . you're here to help me finish this?”

Leo spit out a humorless little laugh. “Finish what? Your quest about your mother or our relationship?” He was trying to use his controlled, professional lawyer voice. I wasn't sure how long he would be able to keep that up, but at the moment it was making this whole thing a lot less emotional and less messy.

I half sat and half fell onto the couch. How in the world was I supposed to start this conversation? “I'm not sure what happened, or what's been happening, to us, Leo.” How was I going to put into words the things I had been feeling for the last few months? “I . . . I feel like we haven't been in a good place lately. I think that you know that as well as I do. I know you think I've been hiding out down here as a way to avoid my life, us. And maybe I was to some extent, but honestly I just needed some room to breathe, some space to figure out what I wanted.”

Leo was pacing in front of me, now a bundle of barely contained nerves. “Do you have any idea how selfish you sound right now, Olivia?”

I answered honestly. “Yes.”

“And you don't care? You don't care how this all affects me or how this looks?”

“Of course I care how it affects you, but no I don't care how it looks.” I was staring at my hands because I was having a hard time looking him in the eye. I still couldn't adequately process the fact that he was standing in this living room.