Magical Weddings (136 page)

Meredith’s smile was wry. It wasn’t exactly a sales coup to do some paperwork for Max Latimer, but the commission had been more than welcome after the slow holidays.

“I hear Jan Terrell’s thinking about putting her place on the market,” Mr. Voigt continued. “You should give her a call.”

Oh. Maybe that explained what Mark was doing in town. But call his mother? Meredith could think of about a thousand things she’d rather do, starting with being burned at the stake and ending with having her eyes eaten by rats. His mother was one of the few people in town who knew exactly what had happened twenty years ago. They hadn’t spoken since, except to exchange perfunctory greetings when their paths crossed.

Still, Meredith remembered the house, a Craftsman-style bungalow located only a block or two away from the center of town. And Jan Terrell was a gardening fanatic. With spring upon them, the house would be a showplace of flowers and color. Priced right, it would be an easy sale.

“Maybe I’ll do that,” Meredith replied. Her mother looked uneasy, so Meredith changed the subject. “Is Dave getting drinks for you?”

Kaye shifted in her chair, looking, if anything, more uncomfortable. “He had to run an errand.”

“Everything okay?” Meredith asked. She knew Dave would never complain, but she wondered if the Latimers realized how much they asked of him. The line between friend and employee could get fuzzy when you lived in a small town and wanted to keep your job. Dave could find another one anywhere, of course, but like her, he wanted to stay in Tassamara.

“Oh, yes.” Kaye fanned herself gently. “It is warm out here, though. I could use something cold. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.” Meredith glanced around for a waiter. Emma, a regular waitress at Maggie’s Bistro, caught sight of her and promptly veered in their direction. Her spiked hair was streaked with deep purple and blue for the occasion.

“Mini crab cake?” Emma offered cheerfully, holding out a tray of appetizers. “I’ve got a lemon-dill sauce or a spicy remoulade.”

“No cheese puffs?” Meredith asked.

“My first tray of those went like whoosh,” Emma said, gesturing with the stack of cocktail napkins she held in her other hand. “There’ll be more, though.”

“Crab cake it is, then.” Meredith took a cocktail napkin from Emma’s stack and helped herself to one of the appetizers. “I was wondering about drinks.”

Emma made a disgusted face. “I was passing out champagne before, but Sheriff Rafferty says I’m too young to serve alcohol. He was carding the waiters, can you believe it?”

Kaye chuckled as Emma bent to offer her a crab cake. “Colin’s young to be sheriff. He has to take his job seriously.”

“I suppose he can’t have his future family breaking the law,” Abe agreed.

Most of the waiters looked like they were high school friends of Emma’s. If none of them could serve drinks that probably explained the crowd at the bar. Meredith took their requests—sparkling cranberry for her mother, beer for Dave’s dad and another for Dave when he returned—and headed to the bar.

Along the way, she paused now and again to say hello to the people she knew. The more friends she greeted, however, the more aware she felt of who she hadn’t seen. Mark had to be here somewhere. She didn’t want to look for him, didn’t want to worry about where he was.

Didn’t want to think about him.

Not now, not ever.

But part of her couldn’t help herself. She felt like a guard dog on alert, stiffening at the sight of every too-tall male wearing navy blue.

It was almost a relief when she turned around from the crowded bar, hands full with two glasses balanced in one, two beers in the other, and bumped into him.

Almost.

Her wine jostled, some sliding over the side of the glass and onto her hand, cool against her skin.

“Let me help you with those,” Mark said immediately.

What could she say? “Go to hell,” would be rude. But he’d relieved her of the glasses before she could find a more polite protest, taking them out of her hand before her fingers could tighten on the stems.

“I don’t want to hold you up,” she said, reaching for the glasses as Mark drew them away from her. “I’m sure you’re here to get drinks of your own.”

“It’s no problem.” He nodded over her head to the bartender.

“Really, I’m good,” she tried, clutching the long necks of the beer bottles she still held.

“For your mom?” he asked, lifting the glasses higher.

“And Dave’s dad.” She indicated the beers she held before wiggling the fingers of her open hand, trying to indicate that he should give her back her wine and her mom’s sparkling juice. “I can carry all of them. Really.”

“Dave?” He ignored her dismissal, reaching beyond her shoulder to the bartender who was already passing him another drink. Damn. No escape that way.

“Dave Voigt,” Meredith replied. Resigned, she stepped to the side, out of the way of the next person in line. “You remember him.”

Mark frowned, looking doubtful.

“My next-door neighbor,” Meredith prompted. “Younger than us.”

Mark shook his head. “It’s been so long,” he said, a hint of apology in his voice. “You involved with him? Jessie said you were single, but—”

“Oh, no, no,” Meredith interrupted him hastily. Had he asked his sister about her relationship status or had Jessie volunteered the information? Why had they been talking about her? Her gaze found his hand as he lifted his own drink to his mouth. No wedding ring. But she knew that already. She would have heard if he’d gotten married. “Dave’s just a friend.”

Maybe she should have lied. But that would be so absurdly awkward. Dave would play along for her, of course, but wouldn’t that be embarrassing? To admit that she didn’t want her high school boyfriend to know she was still single?

“Look, I can carry those.” She reached for the glasses again. “I just didn’t have them positioned right.”

“I’m happy to help. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

Meredith’s hand tightened on the beer bottles. “Oh?” She kept her voice casual. Gesturing in the direction of the table where her mom was sitting, she started to walk. The sun was sliding lower, beginning to disappear behind the trees, but it was still warm enough that she could feel a trickle of sweat forming on the back of her neck.

If he apologized… what would she say if he apologized? It was a long time ago? It doesn’t matter? I forgive you?

Could she forgive him?

He fell into step beside her. “Yeah, I don’t know if you heard, but Mom dragged me down here to help clean out the house. She’s planning on selling it. I’ve been trying to convince her now’s not a good time and she should wait a while longer.”

He wanted to talk business.

Real estate, in fact.

She could do that. She was a professional. Her job meant freedom and flexibility, the income to pay the doctors’ bills with enough left over to drive a reliable car and repair the roof when it needed fixing. And if sometimes it meant working with people that she wouldn’t have chosen to spend time with—well, that was part of the job and she did it with a smile.

Usually.

She took a deep breath. Her cheeks lifted, her lips curved, and her smile was a masterpiece of southern warmth as she said, “Is she looking to downsize?”

Mark didn’t linger when they got to the table. Maybe that was Kaye’s stiff greeting or Abe Voigt’s doubtful reaction as he looked in Kaye’s direction. Meredith didn’t care. She sank into the chair next to her mother with relief. Lines were beginning to form at the food tables. It looked as if dinner was buffet-style.

“May I bring you ladies something to eat?” Abe asked. He reached for the cane discreetly leaning against the table. “I might need to—”

“No, no,” Meredith said, springing to her feet again. “You stay comfortable.”

None of the appetizers were on the buffet tables, so Meredith didn’t find the cheese puffs she wanted, but Maggie had surpassed herself with the meal. Slices of beef tenderloin and ham, shrimp cocktail, cracked crab claws, a variety of salads… it all looked beautiful and smelled delicious. Meredith began loading up two plates, one for her mother, and a second, more tentatively, for Abe. But she paused at a tray of macaroni and cheese, her lips tilting into a genuine smile. In her current mood, the comfort food seemed far more appealing than the seared ahi tuna with ginger glaze and wasabi noodles.

It had to be meant for the kids, though. Would there be enough for everyone? She looked around the park, trying to count children.

To her surprise, two of them—the flower girl and a small boy—had joined her mother and Abe at their table. The flower girl had the boy by the hand and was chattering earnestly to Meredith’s mom. Both kids’ faces held an endearing solemnity, as if they were on a mission of great importance. Maybe they were asking Kaye about her wheelchair. They were at the ages where it might make them curious.

While Meredith watched, Kaye laughed at something the girl said, dropping her head back in a way Meredith hadn’t seen in years.

Not the wheelchair, then.

As she watched, Dave approached the table from the direction of the catering tent. While Kaye said something to the little boy, Abe gestured toward the buffet. Meredith saw Dave catch sight of her. When he nodded and started walking in her direction, she stepped out of the buffet line, plates in hand, to wait for him.

“Sorry to leave you taking care of my dad,” he said when he reached her. “I appreciate the help.”

“You know that’s not a problem. Where have you been?”

“Oh.” He glanced away from her before replying vaguely. “Just running a quick errand.”

“You know, you’re allowed to say no to the Latimers.” Meredith fell into step beside him as he moved toward the stack of empty plates. “You may work for them, but that doesn’t mean you have to be at their beck and call 24/7.”

“You forget I was in the military.” Dave picked up an empty plate. “Believe me, Natalya is by far the gentlest CO I’ve ever had.”

“Natalya sent you on an errand?” Meredith felt a ripple of unease. Was Dave’s errand related to Natalya’s words to her earlier? Natalya obviously knew something that Meredith didn’t.

“This time, yeah.” Dave frowned at the plates Meredith still held. “Is one of those for my dad? Do you want me to take his? Or make one for you?”

Meredith didn’t move. “Natalya was acting worried earlier. She said I should trust her.”

“You should.” Dave didn’t look at Meredith as he leaned over the buffet.

“Do you know what she was talking about?”

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Mer. Not while I’m around.” Dave stabbed a couple slices of the beef tenderloin with a fork and lifted them on to the plate he held. His eyes met hers. “Roast beef, I know. You’ve always liked it. What else do you want to eat?”

Before she could ask him another question, a deep voice from the other side of the table interrupted them. “Meredith Mulcahey. Just the person we want to see.”

“Your sister’s friend? The cheerleader?” A second voice—female, this time—sounded surprised.

Meredith looked across the food to see Lucas, the groom’s older brother, with a redhead by his side. She felt a fleeting stab of envy for Lucas’s companion. Not about Lucas, who’d never been Meredith’s type—much too brooding and complicated—but because the woman had the fair skin and ginger hair of the natural redhead Meredith wished she was. And then Meredith recognized her.

“Sylvie Blair. It’s so good to see you.” Abandoning her worry about Natayla’s foresight, Meredith gave the woman a warm, genuine smile.

The summer before high school, Meredith had been obsessed with making it onto Tassamara’s tiny cheer squad. Well, southern girl, cheerleading—they went hand-in-hand sometimes. Sylvie had been the older girlfriend of her best friend’s big brother, one who knew how to do handstands, cartwheels, back walkovers, even standing back handsprings and full twisting layouts. And she’d been generous with sharing her knowledge. They’d spent some long, sweaty, mosquito-bitten evenings practicing on the grassy shores of the lake at the state park where Sylvie worked, with Lucas and Natalya hanging out nearby.

If she’d wanted to, Sylvie could easily have taken a spot on the squad herself. Instead, she’d gotten pregnant, had a baby, and disappeared. Meredith knew, of course, that Lucas had found her again, but it was the first time she’d run into Sylvie since her return to Tassamara.

“And you,” Sylvie said with a smile of her own. “How’s your cartwheel these days?”

“Been a long time since I gave it a try,” Meredith admitted. Dave was proceeding down the table, selecting food from the various trays, but Meredith paused. “So why were you looking for me?”

Lucas stepped away from the buffet, letting the people behind him move forward. “We could use your help.”

“I’d be delighted, of course,” Meredith replied. “What do you need?”

“A place to live,” Sylvie answered. “One that does not include running into my boyfriend’s father before my morning coffee.”

Meredith bit back her laugh, but Lucas grinned. It looked good on him. Meredith couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Lucas smile, really smile.

“We’ll still be traveling a lot of the time,” Sylvie explained. “But we need a home base, a place to come back to, and Lucas wants it to be here.”

“I’m sure we can find something,” Meredith said, considering the options. There probably wasn’t much in town that would suit them, but maybe a condo over in Sweet Springs or even an apartment would meet their needs. “Are you interested in renting or buying?”

“Renting.” Lucas spoke first.

“Buying,” Sylvie said over him.

Meredith raised a brow and waited. They wouldn’t be the first couple she’d worked with that didn’t know what they wanted. She’d learned never to take sides.

“Buying? Are you sure?” Lucas sounded surprised, but not disapproving. In fact, the words were tentative, almost vulnerable.

“I’m sure.” Sylvie put a hand on his chest, looking up at him. “Permanent is good.”

Meredith glanced away. The moment felt intimate, personal. It was sweet. And it was stupid of her, but something about it made her sad. Maybe it was seeing that connection—one that spanned decades, one she would never have.