Authors: Lace Daltyn
Be patient with
her, Jenna. Her rose-colored glasses got broken a long time ago and she’s never
been able to repair them.
Her father’s words echoed in her mind and provided enough
calm, barely, to help her respond with an even voice. “Daddy did love you,
Mother. And he was kind to you. He gave you everything he had. It was never
enough for you.”
Jenna tuned out
her mother’s response as she focused on the invitation in her hand. She didn’t
recognize the name.
Thumbing through the short stack
she held, Jenna didn’t see a single name she and Josh had put on their
invitation list. A glance at the piles and some quick calculations confirmed
there were more invitations filled out than she had ordered. Fifty-four names.
One hundred and ten people.
Already, that was larger than she and Josh
wanted their wedding to be.
Thunder pounded
in her ears as she held the top invite out to her mother. “Who are these
people?”
“Friends.”
“Not of mine. I don’t know this name.” She fanned the
invitations out on the table and picked up another stack. Again, not a single
recognizable name. “And these? Who are these?”
“Colleagues and friends.”
Jenna tossed the envelopes on the table. “These people are
not on the guest list.”
“I added them.”
“I only ordered enough invitations for what we need.”
“I ordered more.”
“How many more?”
“Just what we need. What
you
need.”
She’s a
complicated woman, Jenna.
Shut up, Dad. “
How. Many. More?”
Her mother’s chin jutted out. “One hundred and fifty.”
Jenna gripped the table to keep from strangling her mother.
“Invitations or guests?”
Please let it be
guests. Please.
“Invitations.”
Jenna’s nightmare had officially become a reality. “Are you
kidding me? Do you know how much a sit-down dinner will cost for that many?
Hell, Josh and I could put a down-payment on a house for what the linens alone
will cost.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Jenna.”
Melodramatic? Jenna wasn’t being melodramatic. She was
about to pop a cork.
Her mother pointed to the invitations now sprawled over the
kitchen table. “There were simply too many must-invites you hadn’t considered.”
“Can the Garden House even hold this many people?”
Her mother tightened her lips. “No, they can't. Which is
why I moved us to the yacht club.”
“You...what?” Jenna winced at the sound of her own shrill
voice.
“The reception has grown too big for that little outdoor
place you picked out. So I reserved the larger venue.”
Jenna had fallen in love with the cozy, romantic feel of
the place she and Josh had selected for their reception. “You can’t do that.”
Her mother’s face registered what looked to Jenna to be
honest bewilderment. “Of course, I can. I’m paying for it.” Patricia Wilton waved
her hand in a dismissive arc Jenna knew well. “Besides, you know we have no
choice. We have to maintain a certain place in society.”
Jenna leaned on the table to keep her hands from shaking.
It didn’t stop her racing heart, or the flush that she knew suffused her face. “No,
mother. We don’t. Hear me well. You will not invite anyone who’s not on the
original list. You know that list, right? The one drawn up by Josh and myself?
The one I gave you weeks ago?”
Her mother stood. “I won’t have you arguing with me on
this, Jenna. I know what’s needed and what’s best for you.”
“You mean what’s best for
you.
”
“They are one and the same. You have a reputation to maintain.
You carry the Wilton family name and must do right by it.”
“Not for long. I’ll soon be a Latham and glad of it.”
Patricia Wilton stumbled back until her hip collided with
the countertop. Her face blanched to the same white Jenna had seen after her
father’s death. It figured that when Jenna finally grew some balls, she’d strike
a bull’s-eye. She knew full well she’d just hit her mother squarely below the
belt. The only benefit to her statement was that it effectively ended the
conversation.
Her mother smoothed her skirt and turned away. She stopped
as if trying to remember something, turned back to Jenna to say she was going
to bed, and then disappeared down the hallway, her stooped shoulders weighing
heavily on Jenna.
Jenna sank to the chair and propped her elbows on the
table, covering her face with her hands. Remorse weighed her down. That same
guilt nudged her to go after her mother. Or maybe it was her father whispering
in her ear.
She can’t help herself,
Jenna. Be the bigger person.
She should apologize. She knew she should.
Jenna stayed rooted to the chair, though, unable to move and feeling decidedly
selfish about it.
When had things gotten so out of control? And when, if
ever, would she be able to make choices that were for her alone. Choices that
would validate the person she didn’t know she could be. The vision of her, in
the dress of her choice, walking down a short aisle surrounded by only their
closest friends and family, slowly spiraled down the drain.
She pounded the table, wondering if any part of this
wedding would be hers. Damn it. Her mother had no right. Jenna yanked the
invitations into a pile, picked them up and stepped across to the garbage can.
Poised above it, she tried to throw the invitations in. She really did. But at
the last moment, she knew she couldn’t do it.
Jenna tossed the invitations on the table and walked slowly
to her room, quite certain her shoulders were more stooped than those of her
mother’s.
Chapter Five
With only two weeks to the wedding, Jenna recognized
nothing of the original plan she and Josh had decided upon in the current
preparations for their wedding. Instead of a few simple sprays of mixed
flowers, the church would now be awash in roses and tulle. Instead of a small
garden reception, the after-wedding celebration felt like something akin to a presidential
dinner.
As she sat waiting for Josh at their favorite restaurant,
Jenna glanced out the window to the cooling September midday sunshine without
seeing it. Between her mother’s demands and Josh’s continued preoccupation with
who knows what, the ledge her patience precariously balanced on had grown very,
very small.
Today, Josh would tell her what was going on. She would
demand it.
Jenna’s backbone softened as she watched him navigate the
plethora of tables, heading her way. His hello kiss was so damn perfunctory,
Jenna almost demanded he try again as he slid into his chair and picked up the
menu.
Pick your battles, Jenna.
She
wanted some answers and, for now, that meant letting one minimalistic kiss
slide. “How’s business?”
His head jerked up, the first clue he’d given her in days.
So his distraction had to do with his business. About half the tension in
Jenna’s shoulders dissipated. It wasn’t about them.
Thank God.
Shrugging, Josh went back to perusing his menu. “All right.
Lots of changes going on right now.”
“Because of the merger?”
His lips tightened, her second clue. It had to do with the
merger. “Yes. Sort of.”
The last string holding Jenna’s impatience back burst. “What
kind of answer is that?”
With an exaggerated sigh, Josh closed his menu and set it
on the table. “If you don’t mind, we’ll talk about that in a moment. First, is
there anything we need to go over regarding the wedding? Everything falling
into place?”
Recognizing the effective delay, Jenna still bit. “Who
knows? Every time I ask Mother a question, all she says is ‘it’s under
control’.”
“What does that mean?”
It was Jenna’s turn to breathe frustration. “Remember how
Mom changed us to the yacht club for the reception?”
“Yes, and you told her to change it back.”
“We can’t.” Someone who didn’t know Josh as well as she did
might not have seen the changes in his face that indicated tension. But Jenna saw
them. The slight tic of his lip, the inconsequential deepening of the lines on
his forehead.
“Why not?”
“Two reasons. One, she cancelled the Garden House. And it’s
already been re-booked for that day.”
Okay, now just about anyone would be able to tell that Josh
was getting pissed. Might as well get it all out there.
“The second reason is that, with a week and a half until
the wedding, we’ve gotten in many more R.S.V.P.’s than our original guest list.”
“How many is ‘many more’?”
“Two hundred and fifty.”
He clenched his jaw. “We only had a little over one hundred
people on that list.”
“I know.”
Now his jaw was working back and forth and they hadn’t yet
ordered lunch. “What the hell is going on, Jenna? I thought you said no to the
additional guests.”
“I did.”
“Then what the—what happened?”
“I gave her the ultimatum. Honestly, I did. My mistake was
in not grabbing the invitations off the table right then and there. I think... No.
I
know
she mailed them.”
Expelling a breath, Josh pushed back from the table, like
he wanted some distance. His jaw worked overtime as he ran both hands through
his hair.
Jenna was so tired of fighting. With her mom, with Josh,
hell, she felt like she was fighting herself, too. There wasn’t anything as she
planned it. “Nothing is going right. Nothing at all.” Jenna tossed her menu on
the table. “You know, if my mother weren’t so freaking concerned about her
place in society, we wouldn’t have all these problems.”
Josh scooted closer and placed a hand over hers, reminding
her they were in a public place.
Jenna lowered her voice. “Damn it. Dad left her pretty well
off. She’s got enough money to live comfortably and it’s still not enough for
her. She will never be satisfied.”
“Then you need to break up with her, Jenna.”
“Ha
ha
,” she said, scrunching her
face. “You know I can’t do that.”
Josh crossed his arms. “Your father would not want you to
be this unhappy.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Jenna held her fiancé’s gaze. “I’ll be
so glad when we’re married and I don’t have to worry about all the crap that
goes with being wealthy.”
Josh squirmed a bit in his seat, but Jenna couldn’t stop
the roll she was on. “We’ll live in your little apartment and survive off
whatever salary you can draw from your business. My writing will augment that. It’s
not much, at least not yet. And maybe, just maybe, a few years down the road,
we can afford a little house.” She knew she was waxing effervescent, but
couldn’t stop. These plans were ones her mother couldn’t screw with. They were
hers and Josh’s alone to make. “Oh, Josh, I can hardly wait until I’m out from
under Mother’s wing and we’re able to determine our own flight path.”
Josh’s face had gone pale, but Jenna barely noticed from
the height of her soapbox. “Money is what’s wrong with Mom, Josh.” Jenna clasped
his hands in hers. “I’ll be so glad to leave that all behind and just be us. You
and me. Poor as church mice.”
Extricating his hands from hers, Josh grabbed his water and
gulped it down. Jenna’s ardor cooled enough for her to recognize how bad he
looked. “You look like you’re about to be sick. Are you okay?”
Josh stretched his chin in one direction, then the other.
He looked at Jenna for so long, worry smacked her in the chest like a cement
wedding bouquet.
“What?” It was her turn to gulp. “What’s going on, Josh?
Are you...are we...?”
He grabbed her hand. “No, it’s not us. Don’t even think
that. God, how could you think that? I love you like mad.”
Jenna let out the breath she’d been holding, but couldn’t
stop the sweat working its way down her back. “Then why do you look like death
warmed over?”
“It’s the merger.”
“Is that all? You said it would be stressing you out for a
while.” Jenna relaxed back into her seat. “Are they still making demands?”
“No.” Josh drew out the word. “It’s all over and done with.
I signed the papers today.”
“So why are you unhappy?”
“I’m not. It was a great deal. It’s you I’m worried about.”
Completely confused now, Jenna tilted her head, waiting.
“I didn’t merge with the company.” Josh ran his finger
along the collar of his shirt to loosen it.
“You didn’t? Then what did—”
“I sold the company,” he blurted out.
“You...what?”
“They didn’t want to merge. They wanted to buy me out.”
Jenna’s bark of laughter had nothing to do with humor. “So
you’re out of a job?” Her voice, although still a whisper, managed a hint of
her mother’s screech.