The Duplicate Bride

by Ginny Baird

  It had only been Hope and Jackie growing up, and they’d never really played family games. They definitely hadn’t played cornhole or owned a bocce ball set. It all seemed so fun and nostalgic, and it helped Hope understand Brent a little better.

  This was probably why he was working so hard on their relationship now…or, really, his relationship with Jackie. While the marriage of convenience had started as a sham, once he believed he could get Jackie to really love him, he began having bigger dreams.

  Dreams that probably involved the sort of home life he’d grown up with.

  The sad thing was, Hope was beginning to have those dreams, too.

  Dreams of creating a family with Brent, just like the great one that he’d come from. She called herself up short with a swift mental kick. Stop now. Don’t be stupid.

  It didn’t matter that she loved Brent’s great sense of humor or that he got her jokes when she teased him back.

  What mattered was that she was making progress on her sister’s behalf.

  Great progress. Really huge.

  Her budding relationship with Brent and his family would only benefit Jackie in the end.

  So, everything was awesome.

  It was okay to feel conflicted by her attraction to Brent, because he was a really great guy. Thoughtful, funny, and handsome. Just the sort of person she might have picked out for Jackie if she could have.

  By the time she got out of the shower, the entire tiny bathroom had steamed up, enveloping her in its warmth as she cloaked her body in a plush towel and wound a second one around her head.

  She was glad that private picnic was behind her so she could focus on other things. Like being in very public company with Brent. As long as she could avoid being alone with him again, she wouldn’t have to worry about slipping up and doing something dangerous like kissing him senseless.

  Her mind started to wander into fantasies about what that would be like.

  Then, she ran the tap water cold in the sink and splashed it on her face.

  She really had to get a grip on this “crushing on Brent” nonsense. That was not what she was here to do. She was supposed to be helping Jackie.

  Which she was. 100 percent.

  Hope pressed open the bathroom door and nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Ava stood in the laundry area, swiping through some data on her phone. Her partially drained drink rested on a cocktail napkin on top of the dryer.

  “Mom.”

  Ava glanced up. “Oh, hi, sweetheart. Have a good shower?”

  “Yeah, uh. The best.” She quickly dropped her gaze to her mom’s phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Just looking up that video from Debbie’s wedding.”

  “Not the karaoke one?” Hope asked, horrified.

  “Yes, that’s the one. Oh wait,” she said. “Look at this.”

  Ava smiled, staring down at her phone, then flipped it around so Hope could see. “This is that Halloween pic from when you and your sister were in the sixth grade and you both dressed as witches. Daring me to guess which witch was which.”

  Ava narrowed her eyes, and sweat swept Hope’s temples. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “No?” Ava stared down at Hope’s leg. “Then what happened to your birthmark?”

  Hope made a desperate attempt to deflect her mom’s accusatory stare.

  “I…er…laser surgery?”

  “Laser? That sounds extreme,” her mom said, sounding like she didn’t buy it. “Wasn’t that dangerous?”

  “No. Not really.” Hope adjusted the towel so it dropped a little lower, covering that spot on her outer thigh. “I just thought…Bermuda…bikini…honeymoon… You know.” Hope attempted to move past her in the narrow space. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d better go and get dress—”

  “Daughter?”

  She halted at her mom’s accusing tone.

  “Where—exactly—is the actual bride?”

  Hope’s stomach clenched. There was no avoiding her mom’s stare now, because she’d latched onto Hope’s gaze and was hanging on tight. “I can explain—”

  “I knew it. Just knew it. Knew that something was wrong.” Ava’s cheeks flushed with annoyance. “You and Jackie can’t be doing this again. Not now. Why?”

  “It’s a long story, all right?”

  “So? Abbreviate it.”

  Hope pursed her lips, knowing she was going to have to spill the beans. Also knowing she’d have to find a creative way to convince Ava not to.

  “I think I’d better make us both some tea,” she finally said.

  Chapter Nine

  Ava arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to begin.

  Hope set her mug on a side table, her hand trembling. She hadn’t been big on deceiving her mom, just like she hadn’t meant to start pretending to be Jackie in front of the Albrights. “It’s sort of hard to explain,” she started.

  Ava sipped from her tea. “I’ll bet.”

  She and her mom sat in the cozy seating area by the sliding glass doors overlooking the water. They couldn’t stay here forever because the rest of the Albrights were expecting them to come up to the main house for drinks.

  Hope cinched the belt on her terrycloth robe, stalling. “It was all so sudden, Mom. Jackie had this wedding thing.”

  “The Martin wedding?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve heard all about it.” Her mom shrugged. “Well, not all. But enough to know your sister’s been stressing over it—majorly.”

  “That’s just it. Things have been stressful. All the way around. She had this last minute problem with the caterer—”

  “Oh no. Emile Gastón?”

  Hope blinked at her mom. “How do you know about Emile Gastón?”

  “Darling, everyone knows about Emile. Everyone who is anyone. His name is legend.”

  “Meaning you read about him in one of your society magazines.” For someone who was supposedly so Zen, her mom spent an awful lot of time pining over how the other half lived. Hope questioned, for the first time, if this was where Jackie got it from.

  Ava shifted in her seat. “Maybe.”

  “Anyway. The point is, Jackie had this delay. Stuff she had to get under control before leaving Nantucket.”

  “I’m following but not understanding.”

  “It was only for a day,” Hope babbled. “She asked me to come here as her, but I said no.”

  “You apparently didn’t say it firmly enough.”

  “I did so! I’d planned to explain that Jackie was delayed by that big Martin wedding. Jackie meant to be up-front about the whole deal, too. She even texted Brent before I got here, but he never got it. He’d lost his phone in the sofa, and by the time he found it the whole ball of wax had started rolling.”

  “And you didn’t try to stop it?” Ava shook her head. “I don’t know what on earth possessed you, Hope. Pretending to be Jackie. Even around Brent.” She paused a moment to consider this. “That’s a little odd, don’t you think? That he wouldn’t know the difference?”

  “Yes, that’s just it.” Hope latched on to the opening her mom provided. “Brent didn’t know Jackie very well at all.”

  Her mom blinked. “Then why are they getting married?”

  “Long story.” Hope waved her hand. “Marriage of convenience.”

  “What?”

  “I know it sounds bad, but both of them agreed to it, for whatever reasons.”

  Ava frowned. “I’m really disappointed in your sister.” Then she thought better of it, glancing out at the view. “Although if she had to marry somebody, one of the Albrights wasn’t a bad pick.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “What I’m trying to explain is my motivation in all this. It’s only for the good and all about helping Jac
kie.”

  Her mom tugged at the knot on her headscarf. “When I saw you down on that dock, it looked like you were helping yourself to the groom.”

  “Mom, no. It’s not like that. Brent and I… What I mean is, because he believes I’m Jackie, I’m actually helping her and him build a better relationship. Brent thinks there’s a chance now for him and Jackie to be authentically happy. He’s started working on that, too.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be your sister’s job? Getting to know her future husband?”

  “Yes, but…she’s not here. She’ll be here on Wednesday before—”

  Ava gasped. “Wednesday now? When did that happen?”

  “I just found out today. She’s had another snafu with the Martin wedding.”

  Her mom inhaled a deep breath and released it. “What you’re doing is wrong, Hope. Mostly to Brent, but also to his family. I want you to march out there and tell them all the truth.”

  “But I can’t.” Her heart hammered. “It’s already too late.”

  “It’s never too late to do the right thing.”

  “Tell that to Grandmother Margaret.”

  “What has Brent’s grandma got to do with anything?”

  “A ton.” She seized this angle. “It’s all because of her that this happened, anyway.”

  “Your impersonating Jackie?”

  “Yes.” Hope nodded, attempting to lure Ava in. “She doesn’t like our family.”

  Ava’s eyes flashed. “What?”

  “Doesn’t think we’re good enough.”

  Her mom huffed. “Well. She’s got another thing coming.”

  “I know, right? It’s totally insane. We Webbs are every bit as worthy as that stuck-up old woman.”

  “Of course we are. We’ve always been.” Ava briefly studied the ceiling. “We did actually live on the other side of the railroad tracks downtown, but still, that doesn’t mean anything. We’re good people. Hardworking and hon—” She cagily eyed her daughter. “Hardworking, anyway.”

  “I know this looks bad,” Hope begged, “but you didn’t see the ‘eye’ that Grandmother Margaret gave me.”

  “Which eye?”

  “That appraising eye. Sort of like this.” Hope did her best to imitate Grandmother Margaret’s cold assessment of when she arrived.

  Ava sank back in her chair like she’d been physically shoved.

  “That doesn’t look very friendly,” she said with a scowl.

  “It wasn’t. Mom, here’s the truth. I didn’t come here planning to pretend to be Jackie. I was going to explain about her work problems and see if I could help out with things until she arrived. But then, Grandmother Margaret and the others ambushed me in the driveway. Elsa was there, but she was actually nice. Grandmother Margaret, though… She couldn’t wait to say how surprised she was that I’d turn up for my own wedding.”

  Her mom gasped. “How crass.”

  “Yeah, exactly. Very rude. And then, Brent showed up, and somehow everybody thought—I mean, just assumed—I was Jackie, and with Grandmother Margaret staring me down in her super unfriendly way, I didn’t know what to say.”

  Ava set down her mug. “Does Grandmother Margaret still think this? Is she dead set against the marriage?”

  “She’s not one hundred percent behind it, I can tell you that.”

  “Well.” Ava set her chin in an indignant manner. “That’s not really her business, is it? The ones who decided to get married were your sister and Brent.”

  “My thinking, too.”

  Her mom studied her fingernails, which were painted a shade of burgundy bordering on deep purple. Scarily, it kind of matched her lipstick. “I still don’t like what you’re doing, but I’m beginning to understand it. But Hope”—her eyebrows rose—“how long can you keep this up?”

  “It’s just until the day after tomorrow, and tomorrow’s going to be busy. The guys won’t even be around for most of the day. They’re going sailing.”

  “That’s something, at least.”

  Hope grasped this ray of light. “So, you’ll help me? You won’t spill my secret?”

  Ava pursed her lips. “Now, I didn’t say that.”

  “Mom, please. It can’t all unravel now. Imagine the huge blowup that would happen if everyone found out that I’m Hope, not Jackie. It would ruin the wedding. They’d probably call it off.” Hope frowned, then said sourly, “Which is just what Grandmother Margaret wants.”

  Her mom sighed, but Hope could tell she was caving, so she decided to heap on a little sweetener. “And this wedding has to go on. It’s going to be so beautiful. Just perfect. And the minute Jackie gets here, she’ll know it’s true. She’ll be so, so happy about the change in Brent, and now the two of them will have a chance. A real chance at their happily ever after, and the reception’s going to be great. There might even be a chance for singing.”

  “Yeah?” Ava’s face lit up. “That could be fun.”

  “Oh yeah, absolutely,” Hope said, nodding vigorously. “And you know what you’ve always said. That you want to sing at your daughters’ weddings.”

  “I do actually have a song picked out.” She grinned. “Because I was hoping.”

  “Perfect! No guarantees, okay?” Hope rushed to add. “This is Jackie’s wedding, so totally her call. But I’ll certainly put in a good word and suggest it.”

  “Would you, Hope? Aww. That would be so nice. Really.”

  “You’ve got it, Mom.”

  They sat there in silence, staring at each other, as what they’d just agreed to sank in.

  After a few moments, Ava said, “We’ve been down here awhile. You’d better get dressed. I’ll go back to the main house and hold down the fort.”

  “Thank you.” Hope stood and gave her mom a hug. “Just maybe don’t play that video.”

  “Which video?” her mom said all innocent-like.

  “That one from Debbie’s wedding.”

  “But, you said—”

  Hope pulled away and pasted a smile on her face. “I mean, not yet. No guarantees, remember?”

  Her mom patted her cheek. “Sure, sure. No problem.”

  …

  Hope dressed as quickly as she could, her head pounding. She had to rejoin the others before her mom made a mess of things—by either accidentally outing her as Hope or playing that karaoke video from her cousin’s wedding. She scooted up the garden path, spotting Ava standing near the firepit. She held out her phone and had captured Parker, Elsa, and Chad’s rapt attention.

  Elsa nodded politely while Parker stared gobsmacked at the small screen, his arms still loaded with tinder for the outdoor fire. Meanwhile, Chad swirled his drink and took another long swallow. Intervening now would be pointless. Ava was already showing off her singing skills, which honestly weren’t great.

  But maybe this would work to Hope’s advantage. If her mom had already launched her crusade to sing during the wedding, that would become her focus, and she’d be less likely to throw a monkey wrench into things by revealing the secret that could upend everything.

  So, Hope decided to leave well enough alone. She stole quietly toward the main house and slipped in through the front door. She found Grandmother Margaret in the kitchen, cutting vegetables for a crudité tray. She’d tied an apron around her waist and wore a pale blue cardigan, which brought out the color of her deep blue eyes.

  Margaret glanced up from the cutting board, where she chopped carrots and celery. “If you’re looking for Brent, Derrick’s taken him to collect his SUV.” She held Hope in her gaze an extra moment. “I hear you had quite an adventure.”

  “Yeah.” Hope produced a little laugh. “Memorable for sure.” She perused the kitchen, which still managed to appear pristine, even as it was evident there was a meal in preparation. Something baked in the oven, and a couple of pots simm
ered on the stove. “Can I do something to help?”

  “Dinner’s pretty simple,” Margaret said. “Oven-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and collard greens.”

  “I love collard greens,” Hope said, thinking she’d recognized their distinctive scent.

  “Do you, now?” Her eyebrows rose. “I always found them hard to come by in Boston. Of course, now with farmers markets and produce services, things are changing. It’s a greener planet, I suppose. In more ways than one.”

  Hope grinned at Margaret’s attempt at humor. “It could get greener.”

  “It could indeed. That’s one reason Chad’s so pleased with Brent taking over Albright Enterprises. He’s proposed so many green initiatives. Brent’s very special.”

  “Yes.” Hope felt her cheeks color, so she changed the subject. “Can I prepare the mushrooms and radishes, maybe?” she said, seeing them washed and ready to cut on the counter.

  “That would be great, if you don’t mind.” She nodded toward a drawer by the sink. “You’ll find extra aprons in that drawer.”

  Though Hope didn’t normally wear them, she didn’t want to break protocol in Margaret’s kitchen, so she selected a fun one that contained a blueberry appliqué. Of course. “This is an amazing kitchen. What a great place for baking.”

  “Oh, I don’t bake often,” Margaret answered. “But I do love to cook. Full dinners, lunches, yes. I also don’t mind a big country breakfast once in a while. But I’ve never had much patience for timers and ten-minute cookies. That’s Elsa’s purview.”

  “She does a really great job of it, too,” Hope said, guarding Brent’s mom’s secret. Then, she recalled she was Jackie and not big into carbs—although she was actively working to change that impression. “I mean, her muffins look so good. I can’t wait to try them.” She hesitated before adding, “I normally don’t eat much bread, but I’ve decided to make an exception for this week. There will be wedding cake, after all.”

  Margaret handed her a small knife and another cutting board, then returned to her task of mixing a vegetable dip with a whisk in a pretty pottery bowl. She seemed to be looking at Hope in an odd way, which made Hope feel self-conscious. “Jackie, dear?”