“Well, she is. I mean, she and Kat together. Sherilyn just had her baby, so . . .”
“Oh, that’s great! Give her my best, will you?”
Emma nodded again, and a lone tear escaped her eye and streamed down her cheek. “And there’s the usual stuff at the hotel, except for . . . well . . . there’s this little girl who’s been stowing away there . . . and I can’t decide on a wedding cake no matter how hard I . . . and . . . and Jackson is selling the—”
She couldn’t go on. Emotion rose in her like hot lava from the inside of a volcano, and she began to cry. The Ugly Cry, as Sherilyn always called it, the one where your face contorts and tears flow in spurts, and you have to work really hard to stop the sobs from turning into wails.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Dr. Mathis cooed, and she rolled closer, wrapped her arms around Emma as she convulsed with weeping, and just hugged her. “I think we’ve hit the iceberg, haven’t we?”
Emma nodded, somewhat frantically, but she didn’t pull out of Dr. Mathis’s soothing embrace for another couple of minutes.
“Listen to me, okay?” the doctor said, taking Emma by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. “You are in a dangerous area at the moment. You need to get a handle on your reactions to what’s going on around you. I know it’s stressful. But you’re going to have to insist on some quiet time for yourself, you’re going to have to watch your diet and get some extra sleep. Are you taking your supplements?”
Emma nodded.
“Good. And I want you to try some deep breathing techniques. Stephanie will give you a pamphlet.”
Emma couldn’t help but chuckle. Deep breathing wasn’t going to—
“Emma.” Dr. Mathis tightened her grip on Emma’s shoulders and smiled. “The bottom line is this: Our stress hormones were designed to help us deal with short-term stressful situations. But when things start to cave in around us, we freeze a little. We can’t fight, and there’s no flight. What we naturally do is stew in our own juices, which can cause chronic issues that affect our health and wellness. In a diabetic, those effects can be catastrophic, and we don’t want that. I need you to promise me you’re going to slow down and take care of yourself.”
“I promise.”
“I’d like you to take these for a while,” she said as she released Emma and turned back to the counter to retrieve her prescription pad. “It’s a low dose of blood pressure medicine so we can get that back in check. Do you need something to help you sleep?”
Emma cringed a bit and shook her head. “No. I don’t want to.”
“Okay. If you change your mind, and you’re not getting the rest your body needs to carry you through, I want you to call me.”
“I will.”
The smile melted from Dr. Mathis’s pretty face, and she turned serious again. “No joke, Emma. The time to get this situation in check is now. Are we clear?”
“Yes. Very.”
“And I want to see you again in two weeks to discuss your lab results and see how you’re doing. Make the appointment today, and keep it, Emma. I can’t help you unless you let me.”
“I know. I’ll do it. I promise.”
She tried to hide the tentative tone in her voice as she made that promise because, in light of the reality that had become her life, Emma knew how difficult it might be to keep it.
Jackson unfolded the turkey wraps from the wax paper and set them on plates, holding his tongue until Emma finished telling him everything that had transpired with Dr. Mathis. She poured tea over ice and brought the glasses to the table.
“What’s in the containers?” she asked as she set the glasses down.
“One is pasta salad,” he told her, retrieving napkins from the buffet drawer. “The big one is hummus with celery sticks and baby carrots.”
“And turkey wraps with sprouts and veggies?” she said on a chuckle.
“I know. I may have gone overboard with the healthy dinner thing,” he admitted. “But I’m worried about you, Emma, and, as it turns out, with good reason.”
She stepped up behind his chair and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing the top of his head.
“This just confirms to me that I’m doing the right thing by selling the hotel,” he said, and she circled him and sat down in the adjacent chair. “You and I have been on a fast track ever since the day we met, before the hotel even opened, Emma. After the sale, we can take a whole year and live out the dream we’ve been talking about for months.”
“Move to Paris?”
“Yes. I can write, and you can take those classes you want to take. On the off days, we can sleep in late and go for walks, really settle in to marriage. How many newly married couples have the opportunity to live like that?” She shrugged in response. “And while we do, you’ll work on lowering your blood pressure and taking care of yourself for a change.”
“You mean live like that, while you take care of me.” Her distaste for surrendering to this rang unmistakably in Jackson’s ears.
“That, too,” he said with a smile. “There’s nothing I’d rather do with my time.”
“Oh, Jackson.”
Her deep sigh drew his full attention, and he wondered what might come next. When she didn’t elaborate, he jiggled her hand playfully. “Oh, Jackson, what?” he asked her.
“I don’t know. When I think of walking away from The Tanglewood, it tears me up a little inside. The place is our home. Those people are our family.”
“And they’ll still be our family, whether we own the place or just look in on it every now and then.”
“But how will we look in on it from Paris?” she asked, and a mist of emotion sharpened the brown of her eyes.
“It’s not like we’ll be gone forever, Emma. We’ll be back. Atlanta is home to both of us. But The Tanglewood isn’t part of a package deal. It’s not all or nothing.”
She sighed again, and Jackson felt the weight of it just behind his heart.
“You feel this strongly about it?” he asked her. “You don’t want me to sell?”
Emma closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “That’s not for me to say. I know that, Jackson. I just can’t wrap my brain around . . . leaving it all behind.”
“I spoke to the attorneys at length today, Emma.”
“I know. The deal is already under way. I get that,” she told him. “I do. It was your decision to make, and you made it with our future in mind. It’s just—”
“You don’t want to go to Paris,” he completed for her.
“No! I do want to go. You and me, and all the time in the world to get lost in one another, in a beautiful city. Of course I want that! How crazy would I have to be not to want it?”
“Pretty crazy.”
“I know. But The Tanglewood . . .”
“What I was going to say before is that I spoke to the attorneys. I’ve made it clear that every member of the executive staff stays in place. That includes Sherilyn and Fee. Morelli’s is still in place. Nothing changes, except that you and I won’t be in the business mix anymore. Fee will step up and take ownership of the tearoom. They’re all going to be fine, Emma. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t sure of that.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” and she reached across the table, taking his hands between both of hers.
“And there’s a new bottom line now that we didn’t have before,” he added. “You are under the gun from morning to night, and your health depends on us taking these measures because . . . when the phones are ringing and the brides are crying and Sherilyn is flitting in and out with all of her own challenges, you know you won’t amp down. It’s not in you. I know it’s not.”
He saw it in her eyes. She knew it, too.
“The best thing that’s ever happened to me is finding you, Emma. We have an opportunity of a lifetime here, and now your life also depends on us taking it. It’s as if God handed us this gift of an open door at just the right time. Are we going to refuse it?”
There it was again; one of those
heavy, anxiety-riddled sighs of hers. He could hardly bear their massive bulk on his heart.
“They will all be here when we come home,” he promised. “But we’ll be stronger and happier and refreshed, ready for the chance to find new doors to walk through.”
She smiled at him, and Jackson took his turn at sighing. His, in relief.
“If you tell me that you don’t want me to sell, Emma, I won’t sell.”
Her eyes brightened with surprise, and she stared hard at him. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I mean it. I just want to make sure you’re not asking me to change directions because of other people. If you want me to cancel the deal, it has to be because you choose The Tanglewood over Paris. And that’s fine with me. But what isn’t fine with me,” he said, leaning toward her for emphasis, “is your failure to step back from some of the craziness. Because that’s not an option, Emma. You have to take care of yourself.”
“I know,” she breathed, rubbing her forehead. “I know you’re right.”
After a long moment, Jackson touched her cheek, and Emma looked back at him and smiled.
“It’s in your hands right now, Emma. I haven’t signed anything yet. It’s not too late to pull out of the deal. But on Friday, I do sign the papers, and it will be too late. We have a few days. Whatever you want, we’ll make it work. What do you really want?”
“You want to sell and go to Paris for a year,” she stated.
“Sure. But in the long run, I don’t care where I’m your husband, as long as I am, and as long as you’re taking care of yourself so you’ll be around for the lifetime I plan on spending with you. I’ve lost one love in my life, Emma. I’m not equipped to lose another.”
After a few seconds thick with hesitation and angst, Emma fell back against the chair and groaned.
“I’ve made a decision!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I have decided that we are going to eat this pleasant and healthy dinner you’ve brought along, and we are not going to think about The Tanglewood, or anyone or anything associated with it, for the rest of the night. Just one evening, unTanglewooded. What do you say?”
“I think it’s a brilliant choice. Now please pass the hummus.”
“You’ve got it!” she declared, plopping the container down in front of him.
“And after dinner, I challenge you to a Scrabble match.”
“I accept,” she replied. “Special rule: No hotel-related words allowed.”
“I’m in,” Jackson replied with a grin.
“Is spa vacation one word, or two?”
“Oh, Daddy, I’m so conflicted.”
“I can see that, Emmy. What can I do to help?”
“You’re doing it,” she said with a weak smile. “Just listening, not judging.” With a broadened grin, she added, “And I know that can’t be easy for you.”
Gavin’s brow furrowed, and he asked, “Am I really that judgmental? That’s how you see me?”
“No!” she reassured him as she rubbed his arm. “Not judgmental. Large and in charge.”
“Well, that I am,” he conceded.
“Where’s Mother, anyway?” she asked, pouring a second cup of tea.
“Your aunt isn’t doing very well. Avery’s taken her over to the hospital for some tests.”
“Daddy, why didn’t you tell me that when I first got here? What’s wrong with Aunt Sophie?”
“She’s been very lucid this last month or so.” He took a long draw from his cup of coffee before he continued. “But this week has been very different. She’s drifted substantially, and your mother is concerned.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she stayed the night here at the house over the weekend, and in the morning we found her sleeping outside on the veranda.”
“Oh.” That didn’t sound so awful.
“Wearing my old combat fatigues.”
“Oh! From the attic?”
He nodded. “She’d gone up there and rummaged around in the boxes.”
“That could have been dangerous.”
“You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen your aunt Sophie in full fatigues and combat boots.”
Emma tried not to snicker, but the visual crept up on her.
“Mother must have been beside herself.”
“Well, actually, she took it all in stride when she found her like that, even when Sophie insisted on lobster and grits for breakfast. There was quite the fallout when Avery tried to dissuade her, but your mother remained pretty calm.”
“Really?” Emma exclaimed with a grin. “That surprises me, for some reason.”
“Yeah, she did very well until yesterday.”
“Do I want to know what happened yesterday?”
“The assisted living nurse phoned to say that Sophie had taken a fall.”
“What?”
“She’s fine,” he reassured her. “Nothing broken, nothing bleeding. But your mother is worried.”
“Now I’m worried, too.”
A dozen scenarios wound their way around in Emma’s mind until they tangled into a knot and she groaned loudly in the effort to escape.
“Just take it easy, Emmy. There’s no need to panic. She should be home within the hour, and I’m sure she’ll tell us that everything is just dandy.”
“Daddy, how can Jackson and I pick up and move to Paris for a year with everything that’s going on? Sherilyn’s just had her baby, and she wants me to get to know her. Fee might not even want the added responsibility of taking on my job. And if they bring in someone new, how can I be sure that they’ll appreciate her for everything that she is? I mean, she’s very easy to misread on first impression.”
Her father quirked a smile without comment.
“And now Aunt Sophie is having trouble. If I went to Paris and something happened to her—”
“Jackson is right about one thing,” he interrupted, and he tapped the top of Emma’s hand. “You can’t make a decision based on anyone or anything else. You and he need to consider what’s best for your future together and make a solid decision based on that alone.”
“But what if being with our family and friends is what’s best for our future?” she said with a sigh. “I mean, what are we, really, without the people we love?”
“You’re going to be married. Whatever else there is, that trumps everything else.”
Emma sighed. “Good advice, Dad. You could be the next Dear Abby.”
“There’s a thought.”
She popped with laughter. When a decision had to be made, a talk with her father almost always made her feel lighter somehow. He hadn’t really given her any sort of answer to speak of, but she still appreciated the sense of well-being that came from a father-daughter summit.
“Do you mind if I hang around until Mother comes back?”
“Not if you don’t mind occupying yourself while I head to the study to make a few phone calls.”
“Not at all.”
Gavin kissed his daughter’s cheek before he left, and Emma took her tea out to the sun porch. She snuggled into the cozy chair in the corner and propped her feet on the ottoman as she tore the bandage from her arm where they’d taken blood that morning. She tossed it into the small wicker trash can as she fondly recalled the Ethan Allen excursion with her mother when she’d bought the furniture for the sunporch.
A chair made from wood and woven sea grass seemed to Emma like an odd choice, considering the regal nature of the rest of her mother’s furniture, but two Catalina chairs upholstered in wide gray and white stripes with matching ottomans, and a simple table between them—a flared white iron base with a distressed wood top in the shape of a full-petaled daisy—set just the right tone for the small, glass-enclosed sitting room. It had become Emma’s favorite in her parents’ Atlanta home.
As she sipped her tea, she’d just begun to consider heading to the kitchen for a quick microwave warm-up when she heard the garage door. She quickly grabbed her cup and headed into the kitchen just
as Avery came inside.
“How’s Aunt Sophie?”
Her mother tilted her head and tried for a smile. “We have to wait for the results of the tests they put her through this morning,” she said as Emma helped her out of her coat. “But she fell sound asleep just moments after I got her settled back in her little apartment.”
“Can I make you some tea?” Emma offered. “You look like you might be exhausted, too.”
“Oh, that would be lovely, Emma Rae. Thank you.”
“Why don’t you go out to the sunporch and relax? I’ll bring it along.”
Avery kissed Emma’s cheek, set her purse on the counter as she passed, and headed off to heed Emma’s suggestion without another word. It took all of five minutes to steep a couple of cups of tea and place a few butter cookies on a china plate, but by the time Emma reached her mother, Avery had curled into one of the Catalina chairs and drifted off to sleep.
Interesting Ways to Incorporate Family Members
into the Wedding Celebration
The Unity Candle, consisting of two taper candles
and a pillar candle, can be a wonderful way to involve
the parents of the bride and groom, or even a
favorite aunt or treasured grandparents.
After the bride and groom light the pillar candle, the family
members are given the taper candles and they light them
from the flame on the pillar to symbolize the new union.
A rose ceremony, in which single roses are given to
the mothers of the bride and groom, is a touching way
of showing them how valuable they both are to this
new relationship forged from them both.
An alternative to this is giving single roses to a group of
family members you wish to incorporate in a meaningful
way. During the ceremony, these people are asked to bring
the roses, one at a time, and place them in a vase between the
bride and groom. This symbolizes the support they offer the
new couple as people they can turn to in the hard
Always the Baker, Finally the Bride Page 13
