Authors: Mariah Stewart
“I have it in green as well, but I think the black is what you’re looking for.”
Brooke went into the fitting room to try it on. A few moments later, she stepped out into the shop and peered around the corner.
“Let’s see you. Oh, I love it, do you?” Vanessa was walking her customer to the door.
“I do.” Brooke turned around in front of the mirror and caught Vanessa frowning. “What?”
“Stay there.” Vanessa disappeared to the front of the store, then returned, a mustard-colored belt in her hands. She wrapped the belt loosely around Brooke’s hips. “There you go. You needed a bit of color.”
“Thanks.” Brooke took a quick glance around the shop. “Your customers are all gone?”
Vanessa nodded.
“So how are you feeling?” Brooke asked.
“Good. Great. Everything’s fine,” Vanessa assured her.
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means that Grady and I will tie the knot very quietly so as not to draw attention from the other two happy brides in town.” Vanessa unbelted the belt and slung it lower on Brooke’s hips. “I think you want to wear it lower, like this.”
“What does that mean?” Brooke frowned.
“It means you don’t want to belt it so tightly.”
“Not that. The part about you and Grady tying the knot quietly. What’s quietly? And why?”
“I don’t want to take even a second of the spotlight from anyone. Not that anyone could ever compete with Dallas, but there is Steffie to consider. You know she’s waited for Wade her whole entire life … well, since she was something like thirteen, so I want her to
have her day.” Vanessa paused, but before Brooke could get a word in, she went on. “Of course, she’s sharing that day with her brother and Dallas, but that’s a little different because Dallas has been married before, so it isn’t her first trip down the aisle. Not that it’s any less special, but—”
“Vanessa.” Brooke took her by the shoulders. “Stop. You’re babbling.”
“Sorry. Anyway, don’t tell Steffie, okay?”
“You haven’t told her yet? She’s going to be so excited and happy for you,” Brooke told her.
“She can be happy for me when it’s over.”
“You mean, you’re not going to tell her before …?”
Vanessa shook her head, no.
“Are you crazy? Steffie will kill you if you get married behind her back.”
“I’m not getting married behind her back. I’m just not going to tell her until later.”
“Ness, she’s your very best friend.”
“I know that. That’s why I don’t want to take anything from her big day.”
“I repeat. She’s going to kill you.”
“She’ll get over it.” Vanessa tried to make light.
“No, she won’t. She loves you like a … like a sister.”
“I love her like a sister, too.” Vanessa bit her bottom lip and Brooke was pretty sure she was close to tears.
“So let her be part of your day. She’s going to be absolutely crushed if she isn’t.”
“She’s just so focused on herself right now—and should be,” Vanessa added quickly. “I thought it would be better for everyone if Grady and I just went to the
courthouse and got married there and told everyone after Wade and Steffie get back from their honeymoon.”
“That idea stinks, Ness, and you know it.”
“Oh, maybe.” Vanessa plunked down in one of the velvet club chairs she had placed near the dressing rooms. “Grady didn’t think it was so hot either.”
“This is his first marriage, right? And he’s from a big family?”
Vanessa nodded. “Very big family.”
“They’ll never forgive you either.” Brooke took off the belt and placed it on the counter. “You will not only alienate your new in-laws, but you’ll lose your best friend at the same time. Good thinking, Ness. Way to go.”
“What would you do if you were me?” Vanessa asked. “Obviously I don’t want to wait too long. Everyone will know …” She patted her abdomen.
“That’s not quite as much of a scandal as it used to be.” It was the only thing Brooke could think of to say.
“It isn’t just that. My mother was pregnant with me when she left the man who fathered me. I was raised by stepfathers.” Vanessa looked up. “Notice I said
stepfathers
. A whole slew of them. I don’t want to be like my mother.”
“You will never be like your mother, Ness.” Brooke smiled and pushed the hair back from her friend’s face. “You forget, I’ve met your mother.”
“So what would you do?” Vanessa repeated.
“I would wait until Steffie calms down a bit, then I’d tell her. I’d plan the wedding for two weeks after Stef’s
if you really want to give her the undivided spotlight, which is already divided because of Dallas.”
“That’s my point. Stef would have to share it two ways.”
“She’s not a four-year-old who demands that all the attention be on her, you know.”
“That’s why, this time, she should have it. She’s waited a long time for this.”
“So have you, sweetie,” Brooke reminded her as she went back into the dressing room.
The dress and belt had come home with Brooke, who’d known the dress was just right the minute she tried it on. The look on Jesse’s face was exactly what she’d wanted it to be. She was aware that she turned more than a few heads when she and Jesse were led through the restaurant to their table.
“One of our most requested tables,” the fawning maître d’ told them. “A lovely view of the Bay, and close enough to the fireplace to feel its glow. Enjoy.”
“I should take you to dinner more often,” Jesse said, “if only to get the best tables.”
Brooke smiled at the waiter when he brought their menus and took their drink orders.
“So, have you had many responses to the invitations to the surprise party?” she asked.
“I have. People who had other plans have canceled them or are trying to cancel them. It seems everyone wants to be there to honor Pop. I think it will make him very happy if everyone shows up.” His eyes clouded with doubt. “At least, I’m hoping he will be.”
“You said that the other night on the phone. If you
thought there was someone he wouldn’t be happy to see, why would you invite that person?”
Jesse appeared to be mulling that over when the waiter brought their drinks and offered to give them more time to look over their menus, which lay untouched on the table.
“It isn’t that I think he won’t be happy … it’s just that I don’t know for sure.” He opened the menu, and began to scan it. “Did you say you’d been here before? Do you know what’s good?”
“I’m sure the waiter will be more than happy to rattle off the specials when he comes back.” Brooke looked up. “And here he comes …”
They both decided on an entrée of fried Chesapeake oysters and beef tenderloin. Jesse looked over the wine list and ordered a bottle of Merlot from a local vineyard.
“How many people do you think you’ll have?” Brooke redirected the conversation. “I’ll need to know for the cupcakes and Steffie will need to know for the ice cream. And of course, Lola’s will have to know as well.”
“Right now, I’m going to guess maybe eighty-five people.”
“Does that upstairs room at Lola’s even hold that many people?”
“I guess so.” Jesse frowned. “They didn’t give me a limit.”
“Didn’t they ask you?”
“I told Jimmy I’d get back to him. I guess he was thinking there wouldn’t be that many who’d want to come. Frankly, I hadn’t given it much thought at all.”
“Give Jimmy a call in the morning and tell him how many have confirmed so far and how many more you’re waiting to hear from,” Brooke suggested.
“What if he says they don’t have the room?”
“Then I guess you’ll be calling around for a caterer who can throw together something fabulous at the last minute and sending out another email changing the venue from Lola’s to your place.”
He looked so pathetic that Brooke couldn’t help but reach across the table to pat his hand. He curled his fingers around hers.
“I’ll help you, don’t worry,” she assured him. “Mr. Enright deserves to have a happy eighty-fifth and he will. Regardless of where you have it, he’ll be happy that you thought to do this for him and that so many people wanted to mark the occasion with him. You’ll see.”
“You’re right.” With his free hand, he took a sip of his wine. “At least, I hope you are.”
He played with her fingers for a few moments, then said, “The first time I came to St. Dennis to meet him, he tried to scare me away.”
“I’m confused. When did you meet him the first time? And why would he try to scare you away?”
“My dad was his oldest son. The one, apparently, he’d planned to turn over the firm to one day.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“Because my dad was … is … a screwup. He was asked to leave two colleges and only got into law school because my great-grandfather had given the school a lot of money. He’s gone through three wives and he’s going on his fourth. He has kids he rarely
thinks about because he’s too busy thinking about himself. He lost his license to practice law because he was accused of having embezzled funds from a client. There’s more, but I think I made my point.”
Brooke sat back against the chair, too shocked to form a quick response. Finally, she simply said, “Wow.”
Jesse nodded grimly. “My grandparents were very fond of Dad’s first wife. Delia Enright, you ever hear of her?”
“The mystery writer? Sure. Wait … she was married to your father?”
“Had three kids with him, but he walked out on them when they were really little. After that, she shut out my grandparents with no explanation, and they weren’t allowed to see the kids again, which apparently hurt them both very much. So when my dad remarried and had my sister and me, they were very tentative about getting too close to us. When my dad left my mother, and my mom wasn’t feeling particularly friendly to the Enrights, and my grandmother died, my grandfather just sort of wrote off Sophie and me.”
“These other siblings of yours … have they ever reconciled with your grandfather?”
“No, but that could change very soon. Depending on how they respond to their invitations.”
“You invited them?”
“Violet at first wasn’t sure, but then, after she thought it over, said it was the right thing to do. I figure invite them and they come or they don’t, it’s up to them. If they decide to come, whatever happens is between them and my grandfather.”
“But you’ve never met them.”
He shook his head. “I just recently learned their names. I have a half brother named Nick who’s a marine biologist, and two half sisters, Zoey and Georgia.”
“Zoey Enright,” Brooke murmured. “Why do I know that name?”
“She works for one of those televised shopping channels.”
Brooke snapped her fingers. “That’s it. The Home MarketPlace. I saw her on TV. She’s gorgeous and funny … and she’s your
sister
?”
“My
half
sister.”
“Oh, wow. It never occurred to me to connect the last name. I wonder what she’s like in person. She’s adorable on TV.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Jesse leaned back to allow the server to place their entrées on the table. “Or not.”
“Will you be upset if they decline?”
“Not as upset as I’d be if they totally ignored the invitation. I think that would bother me.”
“Why?” She picked up her fork and stabbed at one of the plump oysters on her plate.
“Because the invitation was from me, and theirs was a very personal invitation that I wrote specifically to them, telling them who I was and asking them to come.”
After a moment she said, “So if they don’t respond and they don’t come, you’ll feel it’s a rejection of you as well as of him.”
“Now who’s the smarty pants?” He tried to make a
joke, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t taking the situation lightly.
“You do understand that if they choose not to come, it will be their loss, not yours?”
His eyes met hers across the table, and he put down his fork. He got up from his chair and slid into the one next to her, took her hand, and kissed the inside of her wrist.
“How did I ever get so lucky,” he said softly, “to have you in my life?”
“Right place, right time?”
Jesse shook his head. “It’s more than that, like having been drawn to St. Dennis was as much about finding you as it was about finding myself.”
“For the record, I’m very glad you’re here.” She spoke the words slowly, words she never thought she’d say to anyone. “I don’t really know where this is going to lead, but I’m in for the journey.”
“It’s bound to be a long one,” he cautioned her. “You still on board?”
Brooke nodded. “Still on board.”
He kissed the palm of her hand. “Come home with me. Stay with me tonight.”
She covered her face in her hands and groaned. “I can’t. Logan is home and I have to make tomorrow’s cupcakes because I didn’t make them after school like I planned.”
“What did you do instead?”
“I went to Bling and bought this dress.”
“It may have been worth it.”
“You’re not the one who has eight dozen cupcakes to bake when you get home.”
“I’ll come home with you and help,” he said. “It’s
not the same as you coming home with me and staying over, but I’m not ready to say good night. I want to be with you, whether it’s in my bed—which would be my first choice—or in your kitchen. I’ll take whatever time I can get.”
“Jesse, that’s really sweet, but watching me bake will not be very interesting,” she told him. “It’s just measuring and mixing.”
“I don’t mind.”
“All right.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I
am
sorry. About not being able to stay … I probably should have told you that when you asked me out.”
“I didn’t ask you out tonight so that you’d sleep with me,” he said, and she wasn’t sure there wasn’t just a hint of rebuke in his tone. “I asked you out because I want to be with you, spend some time with you. I’d have been real happy if we’d ended up at my place tonight—I’m not going to lie—but I didn’t ask you to dinner figuring that was a given. I missed seeing you this week, missed talking to you.”
“I missed seeing you, too,” she told him.
“Come on, let’s go back to the farm and bake.”
Brooke had turned on the oven to heat up to the temperature she needed, gotten out her mixing bowls and spoons, her flour and sugar and butter, and placed everything on the big kitchen table that had presided over the Madison kitchen for more years than anyone could remember, even Hannah, who claimed it was there when she moved in as a bride.