When they drove back to the halfway house, Derek gave his mother a tight hug and kissed her cheek. “Love you, Mom,” he said.
“Oh honey, I love you too,” she said, pressing her palm to his face and smiling up at him.
Cooper broke the news about Derek to his mother the next day. She took the news well enough, Cooper supposed, almost as if she’d been expecting it, too.
“Well, he’ll get out there and run out of money, and he’ll come home,” she said, and gripped her coffee cup.
“Mom . . . why don’t you come to LA with me?” Cooper said. “I’ve got plenty of room.”
“What?” She laughed. “No, honey. I’m from Sweetwater, Texas. My church is here, my friends are here, my husband is buried here. I’ll be all right.” She’d stood up from her chair, leaned over Cooper, and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t you worry about me, Coop. The best thing you can do for me is to keep doing well for yourself. I never have to worry about you. That was the one thing Kurt and I always agreed on—we sure don’t have to worry about our Cooper. But Derek? Well, I need to be here for him. He will always need to come home, won’t he? He’ll always need me.”
Cooper was grateful a day or so later when Eli called him to tell him they had a meeting with a new director after the first of the year to discuss some stunt choreography. Cooper had the excuse he needed to leave his mother and her disappointments behind and headed back for LA. And honestly? She seemed ready for him to leave. “I’ve got bridge on Wednesday,” she kept saying, as if she couldn’t play bridge with him underfoot.
He packed up his things, said goodbye to his mother, and started the long drive to Dallas to catch a flight.
Along the way, Jackson Crane called him.
“Hey buddy,” Cooper said. “What’s up?”
“How are you, Cooper? Hey, glad I caught you. I’ve been assigned a task by the happy couple, Luke and Madeline.”
“Oh yeah?”
“They gave me the invitation list. I’m calling everyone to tell them that the wedding has been moved to four o’clock, New Year’s Eve, at the house on Elm Street. Party to follow.”
“Ah . . . I’m not going to make it, Jackson,” Cooper said apologetically. “What happened, too much snow up at the ranch?”
“No,” Jackson said. “You don’t—oh man, you don’t know about Leo. Yeah, he’s not doing very well. He’s not well enough for the trip up to the ranch, so they’ve decided to do it at Elm Street.”
Cooper didn’t say anything for a moment. He stared at the road stripes clicking by on that empty stretch of highway.
“You there?”
“Yeah,” Cooper said. “Sorry. I didn’t know it was so . . . I didn’t think things were going that fast.”
“No one did,” Jackson said. “And honestly, I don’t know how bad it is. I just know they don’t want to take him up there, and they’ve asked me to call everyone and let them know. So consider yourself informed. Everything all right?” he asked. “You got in some skiing before you left, I hear.”
Cooper managed to talk about skiing, but his mind was racing. He was stunned by the news, his heart going out to Luke and his family. And to Emma, too—he knew how important Leo was to her.
“I’ll let you go,” Jackson said after chatting. “I’ve got about ten more people to call. So let me know when you’re back up here, will you? I’ve got a couple of guys who would love to talk to you and see if there’s any work for them as part of your event.”
“Sure,” Cooper said.
He drove on to Dallas and the airport, turned in his rental car. As he waited for his flight to LA, he reached in his pocket for his St. Christopher charm to fidget with it, and remembered where it was.
He took out a nickel instead, turning it over and over between his fingers.
TWENTY-FIVE
Marisol returned to work the day after Christmas, bringing her baby and an automatic swing with her. She had worked it out with Bob, apparently, who explained to Emma that Leo needed a nurse full time now. “Nothing personal,” he said.
“No offense taken,” Emma replied. “But I’m not leaving. There’s enough work around here for four people, much less two.”
“But there’s not enough room for four people. Or two,” Bob said wearily. “This is a tiny house, Emma. Come by and visit, but I’ve got to have Marisol day to day.”
It was devastating to Emma. She had come to rely on Leo and, she liked to think, he had come to depend on her. Who would watch Jeopardy with him and discuss how Alex Trebek and his crew had landed on the day’s categories? Who would listen to him talk about what the Broncos needed in the playoffs?
What would she do to keep her mind off Cooper? The incessant reel playing in her head of all the things she’d said, then all the things she should have said?
The weather had turned cold; Emma’s kids weren’t in the park these days to distract her. She wandered around Pine River looking in storefronts and drinking fancy coffees, seeking a purpose and found none. There were too many unanswered questions about herself. How could she find purpose without finding herself first?
She was at the Grizzly Café one afternoon, nursing a cold cup of coffee. She noticed an older man seated by himself near the window. He kept shifting his gaze to her, a hint of a smile on his lips. On his lapel he wore an American flag pin.
Emma stood up, put a few bills on her table. She sauntered toward the older man; he sat back, his smile widening. But the remarkable thing was that Emma averted her gaze and kept walking. She walked right past him and his little American flag. She had no desire to tempt him. She had no desire to add that pin to her collection. She had no desire for anything or anyone but Cooper.
It was Leo who rescued her from aimlessness. He must have known she wouldn’t handle Bob’s rejection well, because Bob called her a day or so later and asked her to come back. “Leo’s got something he needs.”
What Leo needed was a party. “A big one,” he’d said. “You know, with balloons and marching bands.”
A party. That was so like Leo. Emma pushed down her grief and agreed. “You want a party, Leo Kendrick? You’re going to get the best party this event planner knows how to throw.”
As part of her planning, Emma explained to Bob that she had things to do around the house. “The house has to be decorated, Bob,” she’d said firmly. “First and foremost, you’re going to have a holiday wedding here, and Luke and Madeline deserve this place to be what they envision.”
Bob had puffed out his craggy cheeks. “Fine,” he’d said. The man knew when he was defeated.
Marisol was not as easy to persuade.
“There are too many things,” she said when Emma showed up with an armful of crystal beads and chiffon sashes. She suspiciously eyed the box Emma was holding. “No room for these things.”
“There’s no room for a baby, either,” Emma pointed out. “Who’s to say this is less important? I will put up all the decorations, you don’t need to worry about a thing.”
“My baby comes with me!” Marisol snapped. “I will take down this tree,” she threatened, gesturing to the tiny tabletop Christmas tree in the living room.
Emma sighed. She put down her box and turned around to face Marisol. “You don’t like me, Marisol—I get it. Trust me, you’re not the first woman to dislike me, and you won’t be the last. But you know what? You and I could be friends. We’re very much alike.”
“No!” Marisol protested hotly. “I’m not like you!”
“I guess it’s a good thing I don’t get my feelings hurt easily,” Emma said to Marisol’s visceral reaction. “Look, we both love Leo,” she said, holding up one finger.
Marisol glanced down the hall, to Leo’s room.
“We both tell it like it is,” Emma said, lifting a second finger. “And neither of us will tolerate nonsense. Do you know how c
ompatible that makes us? We should get a drink after work and talk about how many jerks there are in the world.”
Marisol eyed her up and down. She looked at Emma’s box and waved at it. “Nothing in the way of his chair. And not fussy. Mr. Kendrick, he does not like fussy.”
“Fair enough,” Emma said. “But you don’t touch what I put up until New Year’s Day.”
“I will agree,” Marisol said. “The night nurse comes at five,” she said. “The Rocky Creek Tavern is on the road I take to my home.”
Emma’s brows lifted with surprise. Marisol was apparently ready to have that drink. “Okay,” she said. “What about Valentina?”
“She goes!” Marisol said, as if that was a ridiculous question.
“That’s completely weird, but far be it from me to question your mothering skills. Okay. It’s a date.”
Marisol said something in Spanish, picked up her baby, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Emma got down to work.
As the best man, Leo wanted some of the decorations in his room, too. “Maddie’s garter belt would be awesome,” he said.
“The garter belt isn’t available until after the wedding. And besides, I’m not sure she’ll have one. She’s doing this sort of bare bones.”
“Then her bra,” Leo said from his bed. “That would be just as awesome.”
Emma smiled at him. “Pig.”
“You know I love it when you call me that,” he said wearily. “Could you put it on ESPN?” he asked, his gaze finding the television again.
It was so difficult to lose two men Emma had come to care for. It was the cruelest reality—after all the years of being unable to connect, of sabotaging any chance for true happiness, Emma had found two chances here in Pine River. And both of them were gone. One, gone from her heart, and one who would eventually be gone from her life.
Emma kept stumbling toward the wedding, almost blindly putting one step in front of the other, her heart breaking with each step. What else could she do? To stop was to surrender to her grief and let it consume her.
The tent that the veterans had hauled up to Homecoming Ranch for the wedding came down the mountain to the house on Elm Street at the end of the week, along with the chairs Libby had worked so hard to dress in silk and the arbor Madeline and Luke had built together. “What do you think?” Madeline had proudly asked Emma as she’d admired the arbor.
“I think it’s ugly as hell,” Emma had said.
Madeline had laughed.
The day before the wedding, the tent was erected in the middle of a driving rain that was forecast to turn to sleet overnight.
“This is a disaster,” Madeline groaned ruefully. She was standing at the kitchen sink at Homecoming Ranch, peering out the window. Just yesterday, she’d arrived home from Denver where she’d gone to collect her best friend and maid of honor, Trudi Feinstein.
“It will be fine,” Libby said. “This will pass and tomorrow will be beautiful. It always happens that way.”
But it didn’t happen that way. New Year’s Eve was just as cold and as wet and dreary as the day before.
Sam came up to the ranch that morning to collect the women. “I don’t like the way the roads are looking,” he said. “I don’t want any of you driving down. We need to go on before the roads are impassable.”
“But where will we dress?” Madeline exclaimed. “I have to get ready, Sam! I’ve got a wedding dress and flowers, not to mention my shoes. Oh my God, my shoes!”
Sam looked uncertainly at Libby for help.
“Well?” Libby snapped irritably. “What about her shoes?”
“I . . . I don’t know about her shoes,” Sam said carefully. “I just know if you want to get married today, Maddie, you’ve got to come down this morning.”
“Listen, I’ll just call Bob,” Emma said. “I’m sure he won’t mind if we use a couple of rooms at the house.”
But Bob did mind. “I got every relative here right now and then some,” he said. “I got three rooms, two tiny baths, and a living room that will hardly fit Leo’s chair. Where do you suggest I put all these people, Emma? Where do you suggest I put all this gosh-dern food?”
Emma’s years of event management problem solving kicked in. “Bob,” she said calmly, “it will be okay. A little hectic, I agree, but I’ll figure something out.”
“I guess you better,” he said, and clicked off.
Emma called Jackson Crane. “I need an RV,” she said.
“Okay,” he said without missing a beat.
“I mean today, Jackson. Right now. I need one on Elm Street, plugged in, ready to house at least four women who need to dress for a wedding.”
“Oh. As in, this is an emergency,” he said. “Got it.”
“Can you deliver?” Emma asked him as she stuffed herself into Sam’s truck next to Trudi. “Because if you can’t, I need to know right this minute.”
“Give me a little credit, Emma,” Jackson said jovially. “Go worry about something else, like the weather.”
An RV—one of the big ones, with pop-out dining—arrived an hour later. Jackson himself maneuvered it into the drive directly behind Leo’s van. Behind him was the truck with the propane space heaters Luke had thought to arrange when they’d decided to move the wedding to the house for Leo.
Emma donned a heavy down coat she’d borrowed from Bob, and together with Sam, they rolled out tarps for the ground and set up the chairs under the tent and arranged the propane heaters. The sleet was coming in sideways, so Sam and Jackson rigged some plastic sheeting along one side of the tent. The arbor that Luke and Madeline had built was also covered with tarps to keep the bride and groom and pastor dry. “That’s a good thing,” Emma said to Luke. “That way, it won’t spoil your pictures.”
Luke had looked a little startled by her thoughts on his arbor, but Sam had laughed.
The best man—Leo—would stay dry by remaining just inside the kitchen door. As maid of honor, however, Trudi would be forced to hold an umbrella.
When at last the backyard was made as ready as it could be, Emma paused to look around. She’d worked so many weddings that she never thought about the significance of them anymore. But today’s wedding, in the middle of a driving sleet, in a tiny house up in the mountains of Colorado, made her tear up. Not because it was her sister—Emma was happy for Madeline—but because she had never realized until she met Cooper just how badly she wanted this for herself. And she felt galaxies away from it.
Emma at last made her way to the RV to dress. Madeline was wearing a robe, but she’d had her hair arranged in a gorgeous chignon and her makeup applied. “Are the chairs up?” she asked anxiously when Emma came in.
“This is what I do for a living,” Emma said. “The chairs are up. Everything is under control. You look beautiful.”
Madeline smiled. “Wow. Thank you. So . . . so everything is going to be okay?”
Emma snorted. “No. It’s going to be horrible and wet and cold. You should have eloped.”
Madeline’s brows sank into a vee. Behind her, Trudi’s mouth gaped open with shock. “You really, seriously, have got to get a filter for that mouth of yours, Emma,” Madeline said.
Emma shrugged. “You asked.”
“You don’t have to say everything you think!” Libby cried, obviously just as startled as Trudi.
Emma smiled a little. They might not see it, but Emma thought she was making some progress. For example, she hadn’t mentioned out loud that Trudi’s dress was way too small for her.
“Well . . . she’s kind of right,” Trudi said, surprising Emma.
“Don’t agree with her, Trudi!” Madeline begged. She shook her head. “Okay, I should have eloped, but I didn’t. So what are you wearing, Emma?”
Emma hadn’t brought anything formal to Pine River, and she hadn’t had time to go to Col
orado Springs for anything, either. At the last minute, Libby’s mother had lent her a dress. It was pale green silk with dark pink embroidery on the hem and on the plunging neckline. It wasn’t the sort of dress Emma would choose for herself, but she had to admit—she really liked it.
“Who cares what I’m wearing? You’re the bride, and you are all anyone will see.”
“Right.” Madeline puffed out her cheeks and let out a long breath. “I can’t believe it. I am the bride.” She glanced at her watch. “Three hours. Libby, where’s my task chart?”
Only Madeline would make a chart of tasks for her wedding.
“According to your list, it’s snack time!” Libby said. “I’m going to pop into the house and get our snacks. Trudi, can you help me?”
The two women went out, leaving Madeline, her task chart, and Emma.
Emma sat on a little built-in bench directly across from Madeline. “You’re beautiful, Madeline. Truly beautiful.”
“I really must be if you say so, because we all know you only say what’s true.” She laughed. “You know what sucks, Em?” Madeline asked. She had taken to calling Emma that of late. “Even on my wedding day, I am not as beautiful as you. It’s not fair. How’s Luke holding up?”
“Great!” Emma said. “Last I heard, he was talking about plans to expand the house.”
“That’s what he’s thinking about? Well, I’m glad to know he’s not nervous or anything!” She shook her head. “And Leo? Is he okay?”
Emma averted her gaze. “He’s okay,” she answered truthfully. “He’s in his chair and he’s talking. But he looks exhausted. Maybe because Marisol put a tux on him. He is pleased with the outcome and apologized to Luke for upstaging him, but I think it took a lot out of him.”
The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River) Page 28
