Snowbound with the Best Man

by Allie Pleiter

  I think this is more about what you need, she thought as she grabbed her coat and let Carly and Lulu know they’d come back at the end of the party.

  Chapter Seven

  Bruce followed Kelly into the shop. “Um...thanks. For giving me an out back there, I mean. I thought it’d be okay...but it wasn’t.”

  “I should have just offered to pick Carly up and bring her along with Lulu and myself,” Kelly replied as she switched on the shop lights. “I don’t know why I thought you might have a good time.”

  “Well, Carly’s definitely having a good time,” he said, looking out the window back toward the church. “That’s what matters. I’m glad for that, really I am.”

  “That’s good,” she said. He turned back to see her pulling things out of the glass cooling cabinets that made up the back wall of the storefront. The light in the largest one blinked a bit, and it made a troublesome noise. She set a vase down on the counter and looked at him. “You don’t really have any questions about the boutonnieres, do you?”

  “Only why we have to wear them. But other than that, no.”

  She turned back to the cooler and began pulling out a second vase. “You can’t outrun it, you know.” The weary resignation in her tone dug under his ribs in what Sandy might have called one of her “sharp truths.” He’d not really noticed before now how exhaustion pulled down Kelly’s shoulders.

  “What?” he said, despite knowing exactly what she was talking about.

  “Slowing down won’t make it hurt more, you know. And staying on the go all the time will just wear you down. I learned that the hard way, ending up with pneumonia my first winter without Mark.” She began wrapping some crackly clear paper around one of the smaller arrangements. “Why’d you come here, Bruce?”

  “For Tina and Darren’s wedding.”

  “No, that’s why you’d come Thursday. Why’d you come so many days early?”

  “I told you already. To spend some time away with Carly.”

  Kelly unwound a long string of red ribbon from a collection of spools hung on a rod. “And you can’t spend time with Carly in Kinston?”

  Maybe he would have been better off sticking with the party. “Did anyone ever tell you how pushy and nosy you are?”

  She clipped the ribbon off with a firm snip. “Lots. I’ve got no plans to stop, either.”

  Clearly she wasn’t going to let the question drop, so he might as well answer it. Even though she should know the answer already. “Kicking around the house... I hate it, okay? Didn’t you feel like that? Like there’s too much pain lurking in the corners?”

  She got a funny look on her face. “No. I love the memories in our house. I couldn’t live anywhere else, I don’t think. Don’t forget, Bruce, that you got a chance to say your goodbyes. Some of us weren’t so fortunate. We’ve got to hang on to whatever’s left, even if it’s lurking in the corners.”

  “Fortunate?” he shot back. “It didn’t feel fortunate to watch my wife die. To watch her disappear under a pile of chemicals and side effects and treatments. To have Carly’s last images of her mother be a sickly shadow of the person I married. So no, I don’t feel fortunate. I feel cheated. Robbed. Sandy was the healthiest person I knew, so will someone explain to me why God chose to reward that with cancer? Why Carly has to know that mommies can die? Can you and your pretty little church explain that to me?”

  Kelly went completely still, the red ribbon dangling from her hands. She stared silently at him, hurt narrowing her eyes.

  Bruce felt like a total, uncontrollable jerk, overtaken by some strange force bent on unleashing the storm of feelings that had been hiding behind the fog. She didn’t deserve what he’d just done to her, not at all.

  “Wow,” he said quietly, wiping his hands down his face. “That was... I don’t have an excuse for that.”

  She didn’t reply. The shop was completely silent save for the stuttered, struggling humming of the cooler behind her.

  “You invited Carly and me to a party and then got me out of there when it...” He turned and looked out the window, unable to meet her pained eyes. How was he ever going to make it through the wedding at this rate? “It’s like I’m some kind of grief bomb this week, and as nice as everyone has been, your whole town is just a collection of people holding matches ready to light the fuse.”

  There was a long, raw pause before her voice came from behind him. “No one’s doing this to you, Bruce. You are doing it to yourself.”

  I am not! he wanted to shout back, but instead he just stared out the window and fumed. After a glowering moment, he noticed that a handful of white flakes fluttered across the light spilling out onto the street from the shop window. “Well, here it comes.”

  “Here what comes?” she snapped in reply. “Another lecture from me? No, I’m done helping or advising or meddling. You don’t have to worry about me poking my nose into your life anymore except for the wedding.”

  He deserved every bit of the sharpness her words held. She’d had good intentions and he’d been a total grump.

  “No,” he said, turning around to face her. “Here comes the snow. Look.”

  * * *

  By the time Kelly gathered Lulu from the party, the small fluffy flakes had turned to great big heavy ones. Tina would get her four perfect inches, and likely more. The weather report hinted that the coming snow would pack more of a punch than just “pretty frosting,” as Lulu put it.

  What’s worse, the snow hadn’t waited until tomorrow afternoon, after Samantha arrived. A storm could impede the writer’s arrival into Matrimony Valley. And then there was the bride and groom and the whole wedding party, with the exception of the aggravating best man and adorable flower girl. Who knew what the weather would be like on the days those guests were coming in?

  Lulu looked up from the book she was reading. “All this snow means Carly will get to go sledding now, right? I told her when we left the party that she and her dad could use our sleds if the inn doesn’t have some.”

  Kelly was thankful Lulu hadn’t noticed the chill now looming between her and Bruce. Lulu just wanted her new friend to have fun. Kelly loved her daughter’s natural generosity. It had been one of the things that first attracted her to Mark, and it pleased her so to see it live on in their daughter. Mark had always lived in a world where there always seemed to be more than enough of everything.

  Except time. If he’d have had more time, who knows what amazing things he could have done. Or even small, simple things, like taking his daughter and her new friend sledding.

  Lulu put down her book and came up to the window. “It’s starting to snow harder. Wouldn’t it be great if they canceled school?”

  Kelly gave Lulu a squeeze. “You wish. You’d love to get out of that spelling test, wouldn’t you?” Lulu may have inherited Mark’s generosity, but she also inherited Kelly’s lack of spelling prowess. It was years before Kelly could correctly spell many flower names—she might have been better suited to working with all of Marvin’s simple ice-cream flavors.

  “Who wants to spell believe when you could be busy sledding?”

  Kelly laughed. “Good point.”

  “And you know what I wish?”

  “What’s that, sweetheart?”

  “I wish we’d get snowed in. I’d love it if we got so much snow that Carly and her dad had to stay a whole extra week after the wedding.”

  Those girls really had connected strongly. “Our bride and groom might have a word to say about that wish. What about all of them and their wedding guests?”

  “Oh, well, they can stay, too.” Lulu got a dreamy look on her face. “But don’t you think Carly and her dad are extra nice?”

  “They’re very nice. I’m glad you’ve been such a friend to her. Now go get just as friendly with those spelling words while I take these clean towels upstairs.”

 
; “Sure,” Lulu agreed—a little too easily. “You go on upstairs and I’ll wait right here.”

  Something’s up, Kelly thought as she gathered the towels from the dryer and piled them into the laundry basket to head upstairs. By the time she reached the linen closet in the upstairs bathroom, however, she didn’t need to wonder any further. Taped to her bathroom mirror was an elaborately decorated valentine.

  What a sweetheart. It was just like Lulu to make sure she felt cared for on such a busy day. “Have a happy heart today,” the card proclaimed with a cheerful, smiley-faced heart full of glitter.

  Kelly opened the card to read the signature. “Love, Bruce.” In a child’s handwriting.

  Oh, dear.

  Kelly walked to her bedroom phone and dialed Jean.

  “Hey there.” Jean sounded tired. “Everything okay?”

  “That depends,” Kelly replied. “All my deliveries are done, and except for all this snow, things are fine so far with the wedding.” She sighed and sat down in the rocking chair beside her bedroom window. “No, my problems are of another sort.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I just got a lovely valentine.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds nice. Jonah gave me one, too. They must have made some at the party.”

  “Mine didn’t come from Lulu. Or at least I’m not supposed to think it did.”

  “You want to explain that?” Jean asked.

  “I’m supposed to think mine came from Bruce Lohan.”

  There was a pause before Jean replied, “Oh. Oh, I can see what you mean.”

  Kelly looked at the red card with its dousing of happy glitter and message inside. “I think Lulu and Carly have gotten a few ideas into their heads. What am I supposed to do about this?”

  “Well, now, that depends. How would you have felt if the card really did come from Bruce?”

  “Considering we just had an argument over at the shop this afternoon, I’m not so sure. No matter what, the girls should not be matching us up.”

  “Have you talked to Lulu about this?”

  Suddenly today felt like it had lasted a week. Kelly looked out the window at the steadily falling snow. “I wimped out and called you first. Lulu’s never even mentioned wanting someone else in my life until now, much less pulled a stunt like this. It’s hard to know what Carly and she are thinking.” She gulped. “Actually, it’s not hard to know what they’re thinking, is it?” She sunk back in the chair, suddenly realizing something. “Oh, no. Do you think Carly made one just like it for Bruce?” The thought of Bruce finding something pink and sparkly on his hotel bathroom mirror with her “signature” on it made her face flush. What would he think of such a stunt? He’d know the card wasn’t really from her, wouldn’t he? Still, how would she face that man in the morning?

  “Carly’s too young to write, isn’t she?” Jean asked.

  “Maybe, but Lulu’s not.” She could just imagine the two girls, giggling and conspiring as they crafted the forged valentines. “Lulu made all these comments tonight about wishing we’d get a big snowstorm that would force Carly and her dad to stay. I thought it was just about her wanting to spend more time with Carly. Now I feel like those words have taken on a whole new layer of meaning.” Of course she felt a speck of attraction for the man—he was handsome and cared a great deal about his daughter. But he was a pilot and, quite frankly, a mess. It was lovely that their daughters found such a friendship with each other, but it should not go any further than that.

  “Matrimony Valley’s littlest matchmakers,” Jean said with a laugh. “I know you’re upset, but it’s kind of adorable, when you think about it.”

  “Not from where I sit. I need to talk to Lulu. Tonight. Don’t I? Nip this little scheme in the bud right now?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “Say a prayer for wisdom for this tired mom, will you? I’m going downstairs to tell my daughter to leave the matchmaking to the grown-ups.”

  Jean laughed again. “So that means that I, as a grown-up, can play matchmaker to the valley florist?”

  “No. I’m tired, I barely made it through Valentine’s Day and I’ve got a hugely important wedding in three days. No matchmaking. Not with Bruce Lohan or anybody. The only man I want in my life is the refrigerator repairman or any man giving away free florist vans. Or Mr. Coffee.”

  “Okay, then. Call me tomorrow and let me know how that conversation went. I’m going to have my valentine bring me another ginger ale and then I’m going to bed.”

  * * *

  Carly slipped into bed with a wide, happy smile plastered all over her face. “I had gobs and gobs of fun today, Daddy.” She remembered Sandy’s favorite term for a wonderful day. That pleased him endlessly, and he kissed Carly’s forehead with bittersweet tenderness.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Did you have a fun day, too?”

  Hmm. How to answer that? It had certainly not been a “gobs and gobs of fun” day. Would Carly understand that this Valentine’s Day never had a chance of being good for him? “It wasn’t horrible,” didn’t seem a fair response, so he went with a half-truth: “I had a fun day with you. Good night, valentine.” He turned off all the lights except the unicorn night-light they’d brought from home and shut the adjoining door partway.

  Walking into his room, he tried to unpack the crazy day. The description he’d growled at Kelly was accurate. He did feel like an emotional bomb amid a sea of lit matches. And boom!—he’d exploded right in front of her. The last person who deserved it, even if she was the first person who might understand. Honestly, he felt as if she’d come at him with an imaginary set of shears, determined to hack away at the nest of thorns he’d carefully built around himself.

  And wouldn’t she love that image. That woman got under his skin. Her constant poking into his life made him crazy, but her declaration of being done with it bugged him far more. Couldn’t she just leave him alone without declaring him a hopeless case?

  Then again, had he given her any reason not to throw up her hands in defeat? He’d said those mean things to her, practically goading her into giving up on him. No more help or advising or meddling, she’d declared, and he couldn’t blame her.

  Then again, she’d said some pretty nosy, gutsy things to him. He took the risk and told her what he was feeling—not particularly well or eloquently, granted—and she’d basically told him it was all his fault. That he was making himself miserable.

  What human being would choose to make himself feel like this? Willingly hoard all this anger and sorrow and pain? She, of all people, should understand how much he wanted to come back to life, to stop feeling this horrible mix of empty and shredded.

  He liked her advice almost as much as he hated it. Her irritating meddling never felt like coddling. Annoying as her scrutiny was, Kelly was the first person in far too long who actually saw him, not just the man who lost Sandy, or the single dad who was out of his depth. And while he wished that viewpoint didn’t somehow give her a license to give him a few sharp kicks, part of him knew one came with the other.

  Bruce lay down on the bedspread, falling back with his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling until he realized something crinkled underneath his hands. Rolling over, he pulled the bedspread down to reveal a handmade valentine card tucked on top of the pillow. “Be Mine,” it said in bright pink letters scrawled across the white paper, a cloud of tiny red hearts fluttering all around the words. How sweet of Lulu to help Carly make him a valentine. Their friendship would be Carly’s favorite part of this vacation, he had no doubt of that.

  Smiling, Bruce sat up and opened the card. “Love, Kelly” was not at all what he expected to see. And here he’d just figured Carly’s silly smile was an expression of pure happiness, not glee at having played Matrimony Valley Matchmaker. This was trouble.

  He fell back onto the bed with a groan
as he realized what must be true: somewhere in her house Kelly Nelson was likely in possession of a similarly forged valentine. With his name inside.

  Of course they both knew the cards were the girls’ doing. And naturally, this presented an unbelievably sticky problem. One that had to be set right, and as quickly as possible. But the thought of Kelly somewhere beyond all that falling snow, looking at her card with the same wiggly, inexplicable, “caught with your hand in the cookie jar” feeling made him want to jump out of his skin. Most of him knew the girls were simply acting on a wish to be together, pairing him up with Kelly for the sake of their own friendship rather than from any belief that he and Kelly were actually in love.

  A small, highly irritating part of him latched onto the absurd notion that the girls had picked up on some irrational current of attraction between himself and that nosy, controlling florist.

  But that was impossible. Because it wasn’t there. It couldn’t, shouldn’t be there.

  He’d very, very carefully bottled up any possibility of there being something between them. What right did his own flesh and blood have to go yanking out the stopper?

  Now what? Bruce was at such a loss for the next appropriate step that he hopped off the bed to pace the room. Out the hotel window, he could see the darkened windows of Love in Bloom through the curtain of falling snow. He had only the shop number from their wedding tasks, and she clearly wasn’t there. He didn’t have her home phone or cell numbers, and he certainly wasn’t going to call downstairs or contact anyone in Matrimony Valley to get it. Besides, what on earth would he say? He could walk there, but he couldn’t leave Carly. Besides, he wasn’t at all prepared to discuss this face-to-face. And he couldn’t explain the nonsense of this to Carly, because she was asleep.

  He stared into Carly’s bedroom, where she slept soundly after such a fun day. How could he possibly sleep now?

  He’d said things to Kelly Nelson that he’d not said to anyone. The lure of her mutual experience, the understanding he saw in her eyes, had untangled some of his knots, and that scared him. She had all his wounds, had lost someone without even the bittersweet goodbye he’d been given with Sandy, and she was making it work. She seemed happy. Lulu seemed to be doing fine. It was as if seeing that slightest glimpse of real survival made his barely hanging-on version of it feel grimmer than it already did.