He tucked his empty hands into his pockets, then turned and left me holding the boots as I watched him walk away.
CHAPTER 16
I spent the next couple days confined to the cottage, hiding from Thatcher, hiding from Jake, and hiding from the mess my life had become.
I wasn’t quite prepared for how much it would hurt knowing things with Thatcher were over before they ever began. But I’d gotten so wrapped up in the excitement of it all, in the hoping. Maybe that’s what made finding out the truth about him such a letdown. I allowed myself to get way too caught up in a future that wasn’t real with a person I couldn’t trust.
I couldn’t trust myself, either, I decided, at least not when it came to making character judgments about men. After everything that had gone wrong in my love life lately, it was time to lie low for a while. Camped out in the cottage, with the curtains pulled and the doors locked, I felt safe.
But with the wedding fast approaching, I couldn’t stay in hiding forever.
I spoke with the caterers on the phone yesterday, and I needed to meet up with Viv so she could sign off on those contracts. And I still had to hunt down a band, a cake, and a photographer.
Plus, I needed to talk to Jake. The very idea of telling him about what I overheard gave me a stomach ache. But I knew I had to do it soon. The longer I carried this around without telling him, the longer I betrayed my brother. And I couldn’t do that to him. Jake was always there for me. It was my turn to be there for him.
I would tell him… but not today. Today I was in total business mode. I could feel the looming deadline of the wedding weighing down on my shoulders. Why had I ever agreed to this? What had Jake been thinking? What had I been thinking?
The kitchen table was littered with papers I’d pulled out of my binder and scattered around. Most of the papers were outdated to-do lists. It seemed like every time I turned around, I was tossing out an old to-do list and making a brand new one. I studied the first item on my most recent list and tapped my pen on the table.
Call barbecue place about catering the rehearsal.
I was counting on Thatcher to tell me how to get in touch with the place, but I wasn’t about to ask him now. Maybe I could head into town and start asking around. But what would I say? “Excuse me sir, I’m looking for a creepy, run-down barbecue joint in the middle of the woods that makes a mean rack of ribs. No, I don’t know the name of it. No, I don’t quite know where it is. Anyway, do you know any places like that?”
That wouldn’t work. Sara grew up around here, so I could always ask her. But now that I knew something was going on between her and Thatcher, I couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. Besides, telling her I’d been to the place to begin with would mean telling her I was with Thatcher. And if he was trying to use me to make her jealous somehow, then I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
That left… the girl from the paper? She might know something. What was her name again? I powered on the laptop and sorted through my old emails. Natalie. I checked her email signature and found her office number. Jackpot.
When she answered the phone, her voice sounded dull and bored.
“Natalie? This is Tess Dougherty. I came in last week about an ad for Carl’s Creek vineyard. Do you remember me?”
“Of course!” I could hear her perk up on the other end of the line. “We ran your ad over the weekend. Was everything okay?”
The ad. I didn’t even look at it yet. I reached for my to-do list and jotted down a note: double-check newspaper ad.
“It’s great, I’m sure. I’m calling about something else, though. You’re from around here, right?”
“I sure am. Born and raised.”
“Perfect. This may sound like a strange question, but I’m looking for the name of this barbecue place. It’s pretty… basic. There are picnic tables, and they have dancing and live music? Do you know the place I’m talking about?”
“Sure do. You’re looking for Suzie Q’s.”
I made another note: Suzie Q’s.
“Natalie, you are an absolute life saver. Thank you so much.”
“Of course. But if you’re looking for a good restaurant, I can suggest something a little nicer.”
“Oh no, this is perfect. We’re doing a rehearsal dinner here next Thursday and I want to see if they can cater it here at the vineyard. I thought a barbecue might be nice.”
“Oh there’s an idea. I’ll have to look into that.”
I heard a little murmuring sound, as if she were making a list of her own.
“Are you planning a party?” I asked.
“A wedding! I’m engaged!” She said it a little too quickly, as if she’d been waiting for me to ask. “It just happened this weekend.”
“Wow. That’s… that’s great. Congratulations.”
“Thanks!” She giggled.
“I bet you have a lot of planning to do.”
“Well, yes and no. I’ve been planning my wedding for years. I want to have the reception outside somewhere. And I want daisies, and a lace dress, and a band, and a town car, not a limo—”
“Natalie?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Sorry to interrupt you. Did you say band?”
“Uh-huh. I want a five-piece brass ensemble, with a—”
“Sorry. Um, to interrupt again. But… I’m in a bit of a pinch here. This wedding we’re working on, well, it’s sort of last minute. And I’m still looking for a band, a photographer, and a cake. I have a little more than a week to work with, and it seems like you’ve done your research. Do you think you could point me in the right direction? Maybe make some recommendations?”
“Say no more, I’m sending you an email.” I could hear her keyboard clickety-clacking away.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you. How can I ever repay you?”
“Well…”
Uh-oh.
“There is one thing,” she said. “I’m still looking for a venue. Do you think I could come and snoop around the vineyard sometime soon? You know, to get an idea of the layout?”
“Of course.” I peeked down at my day planner. “Do you want to swing by next Tuesday afternoon? They’re coming to set up the tent and deliver all the chairs and stuff in the morning.”
“Yes! Perfect. I’ll be there. And Tess?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Bottom line, what’s the best rate you can give me?”
I smiled. She was a fast learner. “Why don’t you come check the place out first? We’ll talk rates later, if you like it.”
“All right. I’ll see you next week.”
“Great, thanks for your help.”
After we hung up, I could feel myself breathing a little easier. Things were starting to come together. I still had to convince these vendors to book on such short notice, but with Viv’s “we’ll pay anything” approach, I had a fighting chance. As crazy as things were, when it came to this wedding, it felt like I still had some control left. Like everything was going to work out just fine.
***
Viv placed a hand on my arm. “This was quite unexpected, Tess. I’m very sorry.”
“You can’t do this to me!” I sat slumped over on a barstool in the barn with my head in my hands. Viv sat adjacent to me with her legs crossed at the ankles, calmly watching me crumple into a stressed-out mess right before her eyes.
“I have to,” she said. “It’s an emergency. I’m leaving this afternoon.”
I lifted my head. “Are you coming back?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“What is it exactly?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Hmm?” She raised her eyebrows.
“What’s the emergency?”
“Oh.” She opened her purse and fumbled with the contents inside. “It’s private. I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Viv, you can’t be serious. Please!”
“You’ll be fine,” she said.
“I won’t. I can’t pull off this wedding
on my own!”
“You can. I’m sorry, Tess. I don’t have a choice.”
I reached a hand out toward her. “But I need you. We still have to pick a cake, and a band, and—”
“And you can do all of those things.” She took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You have excellent taste. I trust your judgment. You have my blessing to make all final decisions. Spare no expense. Send me the invoices, and I’ll take care of them. You can do this. You’re going to be great.”
I sighed. “I’m not going to change your mind, am I?”
She shook her head.
“When did you say you’re leaving?”
“This afternoon. I’ve already checked out of my hotel. But I went ahead and put them on notice to expect a full house for the wedding. I’m pretty sure they’d have the vacancy anyway, but just to be safe. It’s a nice place.”
“I guess I can cross that off my list. I’ll have the bridal suite ready for a Thursday evening arrival, like we talked about.”
“That should be perfect,” she said.
I sat there sulking, hoping she might change her mind if I seemed pathetic enough. No such luck. She stood, tucked her purse under her arm, and stretched out her arms for a hug.
“Thank you for everything. And don’t worry. You’re going to be amazing, Tess.”
I pulled myself off the stool and returned her hug. “Thanks. I sure hope so.”
She stepped back and looked me in the eyes long and hard. “Promise me something,” she said.
“Don’t lose my mind?”
“No. Well, yes. Don’t lose your mind. But also, don’t over-think anything. Trust your instincts. And don’t be afraid to be honest.”
Ha. Like I had time to over-think anything when it came to this wedding. It would be a miracle if I could pull it off at all.
Still, it was an odd thing to say. And there was something funny about the way she stared at me. The look in her eyes communicated an urgency which seemed out of place for the circumstances. But then again, that was Viv: elegant and serious, always a little formal in her delivery.
“Okay…” I said. “I will.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
“Same. Have a safe trip.”
“Will do. And please, call if you need anything.”
“Can I call if I need you to come back?”
She looked at me for one more long moment, then gave me a slight smile and walked out to her car. I sat back down on the stool and put my head in my hands.
“Please, God, don’t let her leave.”
I stayed perfectly still for a while, waiting for a divine answer to my desperate prayer. But there was only the rev of an engine as Viv’s car drove away.
How in the world would I get through this without her?
CHAPTER 17
There were doilies everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.
According to Natalie, Lulu Millwood was the town’s go-to source for wedding cakes. I sat in her living room, sipping hot tea out of a porcelain cup covered in hand-painted flowers, and eating a scone she served on a matching plate lined with doilies.
“You’re so precious!” she squealed for the third time since I’d arrived.
“Thank you, Ms. Millwood.”
“Would you like another scone?”
“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you.” I’d already eaten two of them, which was more than I’d eaten all day yesterday. Since learning the truth about Thatcher, a heavy lump formed in my stomach and I didn’t have much of an appetite. But even without an appetite, I had to admit the scones were good. “These are delicious, though. I understand you’re quite the baker.”
“My apple pie won first place for six consecutive years at the county fair.” She lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip in an attempt to conceal a smug smile. “And I understand you’re quite the entertainer,” she said.
My teacup slipped out of my hand and landed noisily on the saucer I was holding. “Oh, no, Ms. Millwood, I—”
“It’s okay, dear. I was young once, too. I know how it is.” She placed a hand on my knee and gave me a knowing nod.
Oh boy. It was time to get out of this town.
“But sooner or later, you’ll have to find a proper job. Either that, or marry well and get a hobby. Like baking!” She beamed at me. “Are you sure you don’t want another scone, dear?”
I shook my head and tried not to laugh. This lady was too much. “I’m sure. Ms. Millwood, I’m here because I’m looking for a wedding cake.”
“You’re getting married? Oh, how wonderful! And not a moment too soon, I’m sure. What are you, about thirty?”
I placed my cup and saucer on the table and took a slow breath, forcing my face into the most pleasant expression I could muster. “Twenty-nine, actually. And it’s not for me. It’s for a wedding we’re having at Carl’s Creek Vineyard, right up the road. I’m the wedding planner. Do you know the place?”
“Carl’s old place?” She looked up with interest.
“Yes. My brother and his wife, Sara, own it now.”
She lit up. “Sara! How is my sweet Sara doing? I haven’t seen her in ages.”
“She’s fine.” I sat up straighter in my seat. “Anyhow, Ms. Millwood, I know this is such short notice, but I need a cake for twenty people next Friday. I didn’t know where to turn, and Natalie said—”
“Friday, you say?”
“Yes. Like I said, I realize it’s short notice, but I’m hoping you can help me. I’m in a bind, and I’ve heard you make the best cakes around.”
“I do make good cakes…” Her voice trailed off a little. “And you’re so precious.” She regarded me for a while, sipping her tea and tilting her head to the side as if she were trying to decide whether I was worthy of her good graces. Flustered, I reached for another scone and took a bite.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll do it.”
I was so relieved I leapt up and flung my arms around her neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
I heard a clattering sound as she struggled not to drop her teacup. “Whoops! Careful, dear.”
“Sorry, Ms. Millwood. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Quite all right.” She placed a hand over mine. “Would you like to see some pictures to get an idea of what I could do?”
I nodded. “Yes. I would like that very much.”
Thirty minutes later, we decided on a two-tiered white fondant cake topped with green gum-paste grapes. It was simple, elegant, and perfect for the vineyard.
I agreed to pay a rush charge to accommodate Ms. Millwood’s special trip to the baking supply store two towns over, and to account for the inconvenience of her missing next week’s Bridge Club meeting.
She wrote up an invoice on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to me as I left. “Here you are.”
“Thank you. Again and again. I’ll have a check sent out to you right away.”
“Of course.”
“When should I pick up the cake?” I asked.
She smiled. “No need to come all the way back out here, dear. I’ll have my grandson deliver it on Friday morning.”
“Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”
“No trouble at all. He does it all the time.”
“Thank you very much. Have a great afternoon.”
“You too, dear.”
I had one foot out the door when she called after me.
“And Tess?”
I turned around, propping open her storm door with my arm. “Yes?”
“Don’t fret. You’re a pretty girl. You’ll get married someday. Before you know it, you’ll be back to see me about your cake.”
I felt my cheeks getting hot.
“In fact,” she continued, “I know the perfect young man for you. Come to think of it, I’m sure you must know him. Thatcher James. Such a nice boy. He’s back in town, isn’t he?”
My heart dropped at the sound of his name. Forget seeing him. I couldn’t even escape hearing a
bout Thatcher.
“I don’t know him,” I said. It was true. I thought I knew him. But I was wrong. Very, very wrong.
“Perhaps I could introduce you. He has the most handsome dimples you’ve ever seen. He’s a professor, you know.”
A ringing sound came from inside my purse.
“Thank you, Ms. Millwood, but I have to take this. It’s probably about the wedding. I’m so looking forward to your cake.”
“Would you like a scone for the road?”
“No, thank you.” I reached inside my purse for the phone. “But I’ll take a rain check.”
She smiled and waved, closing the door behind her. As she did, I took the call. “Hello?”
“Hi. Yes, I’m calling for a Tess Dougherty?”
“This is Tess.”
“Oh, good. This is Bill, from the Brass Kickers? I’m returning your call. Your message cut out a little, and it almost sounded like you said you were calling about a gig next weekend, but that can’t be right.” He let out a loud belly laugh.
“Hi, Bill. You heard right. The gig’s next weekend.”
There was silence on his end of the line.
“Bill? Are you there?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”
“Oh, good. Listen, I know it’s short notice, but I’m looking for a brass band. I got your number from a friend, and she said you’re the best around.”
“Aw, I don’t know if I’d say that.” He sounded pleased.
“I’m certain you are,” I said. If buttering him up would help seal the deal, then I’d slather it on thick.
“Well, that may be true, but we’re booked up next weekend.”
“It’s a Friday wedding. Does that help?” I asked.
“Hmm…” I could hear him mulling it over. “No. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. We have an out-of-town gig Saturday afternoon and we have to hit the road Friday to make it there on time. I’m real sorry.”
I sighed, defeated. “I expected as much.”
“Well, best of luck to you, Miss.”
“Thanks, and you, too.”
I hung up the phone and leaned against my car. Now what? Maybe I could rent some equipment and make a playlist. But I had my heart set on the band. I needed to somehow change Bill’s mind. I paced in the grass. How could I make this happen? What would Viv do?
Tess in Boots Page 14
