Authors: Kristan Higgins
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
M
ORNING WAS NOT BETTER.
I rolled out of bed early, sunlight streaming through the windows, let Coco out and started some coffee. Dennis was still sleeping and would be for some time, judging from the number of beers he’d had last night. I cringed at the thought of our upcoming talk, guilt choking me like a forty-foot python. It was 6:45 a.m.; Dennis probably would sleep for another couple of hours. Call me a coward, but I wasn’t going to burst in there and wake him with the news that I didn’t want to get married after all.
Time to make muffins. Dennis loved muffins, and muffins he would get. If I was going to dump him, at least he could have muffins. I got out a seldom-used cookbook—
The Big Book of Texas Cookin’
, a gift from BeverLee, of course, containing recipes for quantities of food that would feed entire football teams and should thus hold Dennis for at least round one of breakfast—and got to work. I never baked. My mom and I used to bake a lot—cookies, mostly, which we’d eat watching some age-inappropriate movie. Bev liked cooking better—the best present I ever got her was a Fry Daddy, last Christmas. She’d been so happy, you’d have thought it was a month’s vacation in the Greek isles. Then again, Bev had always been easy to please.
When the muffins were baking, I checked my newly charged phone. Yep, nine messages from Kim, trying to warn me about the surprise at the airport. One from Willa, saying only that she’d hoped to catch me. None from BeverLee, though I’d left a message for her while waiting at Logan yesterday. And none from Nick.
I’d have given an awful lot to have heard his voice right about now, and the realization caused an odd stabbing in my chest. Maybe all the heart-strangling food I’d eaten in the past week was catching up with me and my arteries were choked with Swiss cheese. Or maybe I was afraid Nick had already given up on me. That seemed more likely (and also more horrible) than the heart attack theory.
Maybe, though, Nick had sent me an email. I had, after all, left all my contact info, email, work, etc., on his counter in New York, as a sign that I did indeed want us to have further communication. I jumped over to my laptop and waited, my fingers drumming, for it to start.
Nope. As the emails appeared on the list, I saw there was nothing from Nick. The disappointment was a little shocking. As I turned away from the screen, though, something caught my eye.
Huh. It was a message from my credit card company about a recent purchase. United Airlines, $529. Yesterday.
That…that didn’t seem to bode very well.
Before the thought was fully formulated, a car pulled into the driveway. I looked out the window with dread…yep. There was Willa, getting out of a cab, eyes swollen and red, blond hair matted and dull.
No sign of Chris.
“Willa!” I exclaimed, lurching into action and running out the door. My sister flung herself into my arms.
“Harper, I’m such an ass,” she wept. “You were right! I never should’ve gotten married in the first place!”
Forty-five minutes later, my sister was showered, dressed in a pair of my shorts and a Sharky’s T-shirt, an untouched cup of coffee at her elbow.
“You want something to eat?” I offered. “Muffin? Toast? Eggs? Ben & Jerry’s?”
“No. I couldn’t eat.” Her face was wan.
“So what happened, honey?” I asked, gnawing on my beleaguered cuticle before putting my hand in my lap.
“Well,” she said, forcing a smile, “I should’ve listened to you. I’m going to tattoo that on my forehead. ‘Listen to Harper, because you’re an idiot.’ Maybe then, I’ll learn.”
“You’re not an idiot,” I said. “But obviously something happened.” I paused. “Did he…fall off the wagon?”
She gave me a glance. “You found out about that, huh?”
I winced, then nodded.
“No. He’s still sober. At least, he was when I left.” She welled up again, picked up her cup, then set it down without drinking.
“So what was it, then, Wills?” I asked.
She looked at me, mouth wobbling. “Harper…he wants us to live in Montana, and he thinks I should find a job so I can support him while he, in his words, ‘focuses’ on his inventions and gets the Thumbie going.”
I bit my lip. Honestly, the Thumbie was perhaps the dumbest name for a product I’d ever heard in my life.
“I mean, seriously,” Willa continued, wiping her eyes with a napkin. “What am I supposed to do out there? Wait tables? Become a cowboy? So he can stay home and play with his parts? I want to have a baby, not go back to work.”
“Um…You’ve only been married a week, Willa,” I pointed out.
“I
know
, Harper,” she said tightly. “Look, please don’t lecture me right now. You were right. Christopher isn’t good enough for me—”
“I’m quite sure those words never actually came out of my mouth.”
“Whatever. You told me not to marry him, and I didn’t listen.”
I chewed on my lip. “So where’s Chris right now?”
“Montana, I guess. That’s where I left him.” Tears spilled out of her pretty blue eyes. “Harper, I don’t know what went wrong. Everything was so great before…then it just went to hell in a handbasket! I mean, our honeymoon sucked, can I just say that? Mosquitoes like something out of
Jurassic Park
during the day, freezing cold at night. And Chris can’t cook to save his life—”
“Well, you’re a pretty good cook, Willa,” I said.
“Not over a fire! I’m not a cavewoman, okay?” She sighed, wiped her eyes and gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Harper. You’re the only one who understands. I leaped without looking, as I always do. I’m an idiot, and I know it.”
“You’re not an idiot,” I repeated, patting her hand.
“Can we not talk about this right now? I’m sorry. I just…I’m exhausted. Can I crash here for a little while? I can’t face Mama and Daddy right now. Mama’s gonna be heartbroken.”
I wondered if Willa knew about the current situation with Dad and BeverLee. It didn’t seem that way. “Sure,” I said. “Um, listen, Dennis is here, and we’re going to need a little, um, privacy later on.” Great. That sounded as if Den and I had a booty call planned. “We have to…talk.”
Wills gave a weary nod. “Do you mind if I take a nap, Harper? I’m so tired.”
“Sure, sure! Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”
Willa rose from the table. “Thanks for your credit card, by the way. That was a lifesaver.”
Five minutes later, my sister was in bed in the guest room, Coco and her bunny snuggled against Willa’s back. “Call if you need anything,” I said, pulling the shades.
“Will do,” she replied, her eyes already closed.
I went back in the kitchen and sat down again. Picked up a muffin and began dissecting it with the butter knife. A new thought was forming in my brain, slowly but with great conviction. Willa was…crap. She was spoiled. She was sweet, optimistic, energetic, friendly…and spoiled.
And I was the one who spoiled her. She’d rushed into three marriages; I’d gotten her out of two (and counting). I’d loaned her thousands of dollars, none of which had been repaid, none of which I’d asked or expected her to repay. I’d ponied up for school…that had lasted three weeks. The paralegal course had endured a bit longer—four. When she convinced me that a stonemasonry apprenticeship was her lifelong dream, I’d paid for that, too, and for her living expenses while she spent two weeks figuring out that it wasn’t what she really wanted after all.
In the past, I’d always jumped at the chance to look out for Willa, to guide and offer and protect. But maybe…maybe what she needed now was to sink or swim on her own. How could I have not realized that before now? Bailing her out all the time might have made me feel protective and noble, but maybe…ouch…maybe it was also a little selfish of me. After all, I couldn’t be the big sister anymore if Willa actually had to grow up.
Another car pulled into my driveway, a rental. Oh, God! It was Dennis’s parents, both dressed in white shorts and pink polo shirts, like senior citizen twins. What were they doing here? It was barely nine o’clock, their son wasn’t even awake yet…and I hadn’t even had a chance to talk to him yet, as I’d been procrastinating and all. Stifling the urge to hide under the table, I got up and opened the door.
“Hi!” I said. “How are you? Did we have, um…plans?”
“Oh, are those muffins?” Jack asked, kissing my cheek and squeezing past me into the kitchen. “Blueberry, I hope?”
“Yes, they are. Listen, Den’s not even up yet.”
“Good morning, Harper, honey!” Sarah sang, following her husband into the house. “We wanted to help clean up after the party, but look at this place, it’s immaculate! Oh, you’ll be so good for Dennis, God knows the boy’s a slob. But if he didn’t change his ways even with all my nagging, I hope he will with yours!” She chortled merrily and gave me a big hug. “And looky what I have here!” She held up her large straw purse and withdrew several tomes. “Wedding magazines!”
Oh, God, kill me now.
“You know, this might not be the best time…um, see, Dennis had a few too many beers last night, and he’s still sleeping. And, and my sister just got in, and she’s sleeping, too.”
“Sure, we’ll be quiet,” Sarah said at a slightly reduced volume. She plunked herself down next to Jack, who had already finished one muffin and was busy slathering another with butter. “I guess the first thing we need to decide is when,” Sarah continued. “I’m thinking June, of course, but you know how I love a spring wedding! Blacktie, too. Can’t you just see Dennis in a tux, Harper? Not to toot our horn here, but Jack and I made some beautiful children! Harper, honey, don’t bite your nails. Where’s your ring, sweetheart?”
I dropped my hand. “Oh…uh…right there. On the windowsill. I was washing dishes…”
“Put it on, put it on,” Jack urged brightly. “It’s gorgeous!”
I obeyed, wondering if they knew I’d bought it for myself. If they knew I’d said the words “Shit or get off the pot” as I asked their son to spend the rest of his life with me.
“So I thought we’d all have lunch at the hotel later on,” Sarah said. “Bonnie, Kevin, the kids, then maybe a family hike, how’s that sound?”
“Um…you know what?” I said. “I’m so sorry…I…I’m just gonna dash into the shower, if that’s okay. My sister just got back, and I didn’t have time—”
“I can’t wait to hear about
that
wedding!” Sarah said. “Jack, wouldn’t a destination wedding be so much fun? Well, you go shower, honey. Take your time! Hopefully that lazybones son of ours will wake up and we can get down to business.”
I fled the kitchen, practically staggering under the weight of all that enthusiasm…and the dread of how they’d feel later today.
I’m so sorry,
I thought.
I’m really, really sorry.
My head felt like a fighter jet in a tail spin toward destruction. In one room, I had a sleeping nonfiancé. In another, an exhausted and weepy sister. In the third, the two most cheerful people alive. The warm water of the shower calmed me down—a little, anyway. Was I hiding? Absolutely. But just for the moment. It was going to be a busy morning, and I just needed to get my head on straight. First things first: get rid of the Costellos. Next, get rid of Willa, just for a while, anyway. And finally, talk to Dennis ASAP.
I slapped on a little makeup and left my hair down, since I couldn’t seem to find an elastic; Coco tended to eat them. Tiptoed into my room and put on a summery yellow dress, taking care not to wake Dennis. He appeared to be dead to the world, so at least there was that.
My future not-to-be in-laws were sitting on the deck when I came out. “Come and join us, sweetheart!” called Jack.
“Okay!” I answered, taking a deep breath. I smoothed my hands over my stomach, adjusted the engagement ring. All I had to do was go out there and tell them this wasn’t a good time, Den would call them later. Then I’d rouse Willa, send her to Kim’s, maybe, and finally wake up Dennis and—
There was a knock on the kitchen door.
I looked up.
Nick was standing on my porch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“O
H, CROTCH,”
I
BREATHED.
“Hey,” Nick said. He was smiling. Here. He was here. On the porch. Why were all these men surprising me these days?
He raised a hand to shield his eyes and looked in through the screen door, and oh, that smile! Those beautiful gypsy eyes…And he was here. Crap! But no, it was good, right? So,
so
good…and also very terrible! Horrible, because really could the timing be any worse in any way?”
“I missed you, woman,” he said, and damn it, he had flowers. Irises. My favorite. Who the
hell
could find irises in September before 10 a.m. on an
island?
Huh? Who?
I floated over to the door, unable to feel my legs. I did
not
open the door, uh-uh. “Um,” I breathed. “Hi.”
“I was in the neighborhood,” he said. His eyes were happy. Damn it, he looked the way he did the first time he laid eyes on me—knowing and mischievous and naughty and edible.
“What are you doing here, Nick?” I whispered.
“What do you think?”
“Um…peddling the Book of Mormon?” Weak, but apparently, I was brain-dead.
“Wow. It’s like you’re psychic.” He took a step forward, and I jerked back. “Listen, Harper. When you left yesterday, I felt like I was dying. Dying, Harper.” He raised an eyebrow, and that little smile, it just killed me.
Crotchety crotch crotch! Of course, under other circumstances, I’d be on him like a tick on a tourist, but…crotch! “Nick, I…um…” Glancing behind me, I could see Jack and Sarah through the sliding glass doors as they sat out on the deck. Sarah was pointing to something in one of the bridal mags. I shifted to hide Nick’s view.
“You were right,” he said. God! The sexiest three words in the English language,
you were right
. What woman doesn’t love to hear that? “I know we have things to work out, and I’m completely willing to—” He paused. “Think you can let me in? I hadn’t really pictured kissing you through the screen.”
My knees threatened to give out. “Nick, this is…you know…but I have…uh, company? Unexpected company? Can I see you later, maybe?”
“No.” His smile faded. “Harper, I love you, and I’m not letting you run away this time. Open the goddamn door so I can grovel and kiss you and maybe cop a feel. And then we can figure things out, okay?”
“Hey!” Kim came torpedoing down the path from her house. Thank the Lord, the Marines had landed. “Hi! Harper! Good morning! And who do we have here! Hi, I’m Kim. Neighbor and friend.”
“Kim!” I blurted. “Great to see you. Uh…this is…um…Nick. Nick Lowery. Nick, my neighbor, Kim, mother of four wonderful boys and um…uh…yes. Okay. Maybe you can go to her house?”
Nick squinted at me—who wouldn’t? I sounded insane. Nevertheless, he turned to shake Kim’s hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh,” Kim panted. “Wow. Okay. Yep, I see it now, Harper. Right. Got it. Flowers, that’s nice. So you’re Nick? Wow.” She gave me a wild-eyed glance.
“Kim, I was telling Nick about my
company.
You know. The unexpected recent company?”
“Oh, shitake, yes. Right. Nick, want to come to my house for a little bit? I have children. They’re very entertaining. And so well behaved. They hardly break anything.”
Nick’s gaze swiveled between the two of us women, babbling idiots both, and he narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on, Harper?” he asked.
I swallowed. “Well, Nick, I’m so, so happy to see you…but…well, this company? Um…”
“Harper dear?” Sarah called.
“Who’s that?” Nick asked.
I was hyperventilating a little. “Actually, see, this is kind of funny—”
“Nick! What are you doing here? Did Chris send you?”
Oh, hell and damnation. Willa had arisen from her nap and came now into the kitchen behind me.
“Willa,” he said, though he was staring at me. The warm, hot fudge look in his eyes dried to a hardened lump of tar. “What a surprise.”
“Chris didn’t send you?”
“And why would he do that?” Nick asked, his voice deceptively mild.
“Because I left him,” Willa said, her eyes filling. “Harper was right. He wasn’t good enough for me! It was a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Those weren’t my exact words,” I said, cringing.
Nick took matters into his own hands and tried to open the door. I tried to close it.
“Harper, what the hell?” he muttered, pushing it open all the way. Not fair. He was heavier. He stood in the kitchen between Willa and me, looking at both of us in turn before settling his gaze on Willa. “One week? That’s all, Willa? You gave him a week?”
“I should never have married him in the first place,” she said, starting to do that little hitching breath thing again. Kim, bless her, came in as well and took Willa’s arm, steering her over to the table. I glanced out to the deck, where Jack and Sarah had turned to look at our little soap opera.
“Nick, listen,” I said. “You have to go just for a little while, okay? This is not a good time.”
“No, I can see that,” Nick said tightly. And he didn’t know the half of it. “I thought you said you wouldn’t interfere.”
“Look, I actually didn’t—”
“How did you get home, Willa?” he asked tightly.
“Harper gave me her credit card number, in case things went south,” my sister answered, blowing her nose loudly.
Nick’s jaw tightened. “Nice, Harper.”
“It wasn’t exactly like—Oh, crap.”
Jack and Sarah had decided to join us. “Hello there,” said Sarah, blinking as she came in from the bright sunlight. “We’re Jack and Sarah Costello. And you are…?”
“Nick’s my brother-in-law,” Willa said wetly. “Hi, Mrs. Costello, Mr. Costello, nice to see you again.”
“Costello?” Nick said. His voice was very soft.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Jack asked Willa.
“Oh, nothing,” Willa said, her face crumpling.
I just stood there, unable to figure a way out of this mess, choked to silence by the guilt python.
Then I heard my bedroom door open, and Dennis came in, as well. Wearing boxers and nothing else, his brawny build on full display. “Hey, I didn’t know we had a crowd. Hi, Ma, Dad. Hi, Willa, what’s up?” He rubbed his eyes, then focused on Nick. “Nick! How’s it hanging? You here to offer congratulations or something?”
With terrible slowness, Nick’s gaze slid to me. “Congratulations on what?” he asked. I closed my eyes.
Dennis put his arm around me. “Dude. We’re getting married.”
“And, not to be too presumptuous,” Sarah said, leaning forward with one of the bridal magazines, “I think I found you a dress. See? So elegant!”
Nick just stared at me for a minute, and the world seemed to stop as I felt the full weight of his disappointment…no. His disgust.
“Well,” he said calmly. “I hope you’ll be very happy together.” He glanced at his watch. “Sorry to say, I have to run.”
And then he was out the door, into the sunshine.
“I would’ve thought he’d have a little more to say than that,” Willa muttered.
“He’s not here for—you know what? Be right back,” I said, my paralysis shattering. I bolted outside, my sandals crunching on the driveway, little fragments of crushed shells stabbing into my feet. “Nick!” I called. “Wait! Hold on a sec.”
He didn’t. He was actually on his phone, calling a cab, probably. Or a hit man. “Nick! Hang on! Please!”
I caught up to him at the bottom of my hill, right in front of the dock, where already, tourists were boarding their charter boats for a day of fishing.
“Nick, this is not what it seems.” I put my hand on his arm, but he shook it off. “Nick! I’m not engaged to Dennis,” I said. The wind blew the hair into my eyes, and I shoved it back.
“I don’t believe this,” he said. “I mean, I figured you’d have an escape plan, but engaged? Wow, Harper. That was fast. Or maybe not. Maybe you never broke up with Dennis in the first place. I mean, look at you. Your hair’s down, you’re wearing a pretty dress, a ring that would choke a pony, breaking up my brother’s marriage and all set to have a lovely day with your
fiancé
and his family!”
“Nick, come on! I’m not marrying him.”
He shook his head, looking at the sky. “Does he have any idea that you’ve been with me, Harper?”
“By ‘been with,’ do you mean ‘slept with’?” I asked, biting a cuticle.
“Yes, Harper! Does Dennis know you slept with me?”
“Um…well, not really. No.”
Nick glared at me. “This is what you do, isn’t it? You erase me. You leave me. Our whole time together, back then and right now, one foot out the door. Just in case.”
“Nick, he met me at the airport with his whole family—”
“And you just couldn’t figure out a way to say no.”
I paused. Maybe he did understand. “Exactly. I just needed a few days—”
“You couldn’t figure out a way to say no to me, either. That’s why you married me. You told me that just this week.”
I started to answer, then stopped. “I…it wasn’t—”
“So will you marry Dennis because you can’t see a way out of it, Harper?” His eyes were molten with anger.
I took a breath. “No. Really, Nick. I’m not even remotely considering marrying Dennis.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. The wind rumpled his hair, and he stared at me with his gypsy eyes. “Well, let me ask you this, Harper. Are you considering marrying me?”
The question hung in the air between us. I hesitated. “Well, I think before we talk about that, Nick, we have to figure out—”
He held up his hand. “Stop,” he said. “Just…stop.”
I obeyed, forcing myself not to chew on my cuticles. Nick looked out over the water, past the boats, past the Coast Guard station, out toward the open water. He couldn’t seem to look at me.
Then a car pulled up, the same taxi service that had dropped off Willa. “Someone call a cab?” the driver said amiably.
“Yeah,” Nick said.
My mouth went dry, my heart clattered. “Nick, don’t leave. Don’t go,” I said unevenly. “Look, it’s not that I’m not, you know…it’s just that this is all really new and sudden, and it’s hard—”
“It’s not hard for me!” he barked, causing both the cabbie and me to jump. “Harper, I’ve loved you all my adult life, but you just can’t believe that, and nothing I do will change your mind. You want a guarantee, you want a fucking crystal ball to see the future, and I can’t give you one. The only thing I can say is that I love you, I always have, I always will, but somehow that’s not good enough for you. And I just can’t do this any more.” He opened the door, took a breath, then forced himself to look at me. “Take care of yourself.”
Then he got in the cab, slammed the door and that was that.
The car pulled away, the seagulls wheeled and cried. A crow called from a telephone wire, and a lobster boat’s engine coughed, then turned over.
From my overactive, ever-analyzing brain, there was nothing, and where my heart had been, there now seemed to be an abandoned mineshaft, empty, dark and hollow.
E
VERYONE WAS STILL IN
my kitchen when I got back. Nick’s irises lay on the table next to Willa, who was idly stroking a petal. Kim leaned against the counter, talking to the Costellos, and they all looked up when I walked in.
“Where have you been, honey?” Sarah asked. “Are you all right? You’ll get a burn if you don’t wear a hat. Do you have sunscreen on?”
“Where’s Dennis?” I asked.
“He’s getting dressed,” she answered. “Why, dear?”
I dragged my eyes up to hers. “I…I need to talk to him.” I said. My expression must’ve been telling, because her mouth made an O of surprise, and a flash of wariness crossed her face.
“Maybe we should catch up with you two later on,” Jack said.
“Yes!” Sarah agreed. “Right. Okay, dear. Um…goodbye.” I watched them leave, then closed my eyes briefly.
“Willa, why don’t we go to my house for a little bit?” Kim suggested.
“You okay?” Willa asked me.
“Um…not really,” I said. “I need to talk to Den for a little bit.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”
“I’ll be home,” Kim murmured, giving me a quick pat as she herded Willa out the door.
The quiet of the house was almost palpable. I took a breath, then another, but my heart kept thudding painfully away. Dennis hadn’t come out of the bedroom, and after another minute or two, I went in to see what was keeping him.
He was sitting on the edge of my bed, petting Coco, staring at the floor.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Wait,” he said. “Hang on a sec.” He looked up at the ceiling and when he looked at me again, his lovely blue eyes were wet. “I did everything on the list.”
I pressed my fingers against my lips. Nodded. This was
awful.
I swallowed hard. “I know.”
“But you don’t want to marry me anyway.”
“Den, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, sitting next to him.
“So. Nick, huh?”
I nodded, too miserable to speak.
Dennis shook his head. “I shoulda known. The way you two fought in Montana…the way you looked at him.” Dennis scrubbed his face. “You never looked at me that way.”
A thousand points for Dennis. He might’ve been a big lug, but he was no dope. I wiped my eyes. Guess the dam had been broken on crying.
We sat there another minute, then Dennis sighed. “Well. I guess I never looked at you that way, either.” He glanced at me. “So why’d you say you’d marry me, Harper?”
I twisted my bracelet till it pinched the skin on my wrist, then cleared my throat. “I didn’t want to turn you down in front of everyone.”
He considered that. “Thanks, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again.
“I can’t believe I cut off my rattail.”
I gave a surprised laugh, and Dennis grinned reluctantly. Then he took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and looked at me a long, assessing minute. “I guess we’re done, then.”
“I’m really sorry, Den.”
“Right. Whatever.” Neither of us said anything for a long time. Then Dennis spoke again. “I do love you, Harp. You know. In a lotta ways, I do.”
It was hard to hear, all that kindness, that generosity. God knows I didn’t deserve it. “Same here, Den.” Then I took off my engagement ring and offered it to him. Dennis eyed it suspiciously.