A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7)

by Sheila Roberts

  “I’ll be happy to bring food up to you,” Daphne had offered, but Roberta had nixed the idea.

  “I’d feel too isolated stuck up there.” She didn’t want to feel so cut off from what was going on in the rest of the house. And she wanted to be within hearing distance when Daphne was on the phone, handling last-minute wedding details.

  This arrangement created almost as much work for her daughter as if they’d ensconced Roberta in her room, but Daphne never complained about having to run up and down stairs fetching fresh clothes, toiletry items or whatever book Roberta wanted. Could a mother ask for a better daughter?

  And Daphne was certainly proving to be helpful, especially in the kitchen, Roberta thought as she enjoyed a shrimp salad Daphne had made for lunch. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea having her daughter live with her. For the most part they’d settled into a comfortable routine and were getting along quite well. Maybe having her more involved with the business wasn’t a bad idea, either. Perhaps someday she could take over. Perhaps now Daphne would, at last, come into her own and shine. Yes, Roberta should have suggested this long ago, groomed her daughter from the start. Or at least after her second divorce.

  Well, it wasn’t too late. Daphne could learn the ropes now. Roberta smiled at the pleasant vision of Daphne becoming one of the town’s movers and shakers, working with the chamber of commerce, helping plan festivals. Even running for mayor someday. There was so much she could do if she’d develop a little more confidence in herself.

  The girl could succeed if she had a mind to. All she needed was some motherly assistance, which Roberta was happy to offer every time the phone rang.

  “Mother!” Daphne said after Roberta had insisted on talking to a woman who called about having a fall wedding at Primrose Haus. “I’m perfectly capable of answering questions about price and availability.”

  “Of course you are,” Roberta agreed, “but I’m not helpless here. I don’t want to sit around like a lump watching TV all day.” Her foot was beginning to hurt and she popped another pain pill. And she was getting sleepy. The surgery had really taken it out of her. She needed a nap. “I think I’ll shut my eyes for a few minutes, though. I know you’ll see to everything while I do.”

  “Good idea,” Daphne said, placated. She kissed Roberta on the forehead. “Have a good rest. I’ll take care of everything.”

  And she did.

  So when the day of the mayor’s daughter’s wedding came, Roberta wasn’t the least bit worried. Lila had things well in hand, and Daphne had sworn that every detail had been attended to, including shutting Milo in her room so he wouldn’t get underfoot.

  That didn’t stop Roberta from putting on the special boot the doctor had prescribed for her and hobbling out to the reception room to see how things were coming along. Daphne had run to the store to pick up some Sweet Dreams chocolates (a last-minute request by Del), and Heinrich, the creative genius from Lupine Floral, had arrived himself to fuss with the flowers rather than leaving it to his partner, Kevin. In addition to the bridal bouquet and boutonnieres, he’d made small elegant arrangements for the tables, a larger one for the bridal party’s table and two for the front parlor. They were all exquisite concoctions of greens, baby’s breath and...roses. With not a single stargazer lily to be seen. And where was the stephanotis? What had gone wrong?

  Daphne was supposed to have dealt with this. One quick visit to the florist—that was all she had to do. Roberta could feel her blood pressure rising like a jet taking off from the runway.

  She looked at her wristwatch. It was edging toward noon. The bridal party would be showing up for pictures at two. Oh, dear.

  She hobbled over to Heinrich as fast as she could. “Heinrich, these are beautiful,” she began.

  He beamed, obviously pleased with the compliment.

  “But where are the stargazer lilies and the stephanotis?”

  He stared at her, befuddled. “Lilies?”

  “Yes. The bride changed her mind and wanted lilies instead of roses. Daphne was supposed to let you know.”

  Heinrich went from befuddled to horrified, placing a hand to his chest as if he was about to have a heart attack. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  Roberta was sure she was going to have a heart attack. “The bridal party will be here at two. Can you fix these before then?”

  He frowned. “That’s like asking Michelangelo to hurry up and finish David.”

  Oh, great. Of all times for Heinrich to remember he was an artiste.

  He also remembered he was a businessman. “But for you I’ll move heaven and earth.” He picked up the huge arrangement from the buffet table, obscuring his entire head from view. “I’ll take these back to the shop and fix them.”

  “Of course I’ll pay for the flowers you’ve already used,” Roberta said. She’d have to eat the cost; there was no getting around it.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “No,” she said adamantly. “The one who makes the mistake should be the one to pay.” And sadly, that one was her. Or rather, her daughter. Honestly, if she couldn’t count on Daphne to do this, how could she count on her to take more responsibility for the business?

  This was why her daughter had never climbed the ladder of success, Roberta thought as her blood pressure continued to soar through the clouds and into the upper stratosphere. Daphne was incompetent. Sweet and well-intentioned but incompetent. And this was the last wedding she was going to help with. Ever.

  She was hobbling out of the room when the culprit came home, bearing two pink shopping bags filled with boxes of Sweet Dreams chocolates. Roberta’s displeasure must have sat like a billboard on her face because Daphne’s brows knit and she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “The flowers,” Roberta said through gritted teeth.

  Daphne looked around in surprise. “They’re not here yet.”

  “They were here. They were here wrong.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The lilies,” Roberta said, her voice rising. “Heinrich had no idea he was supposed to substitute them for the roses. And there was no stephanotis, either.”

  “How can that be?”

  There was only one explanation. “Daphne, you obviously forgot to contact Lupine Floral.”

  Daphne shook her head. Emphatically. “No. I didn’t.”

  “Well, they weren’t in the arrangements,” Roberta said testily. It wasn’t going to do any good to stand here and argue with her daughter. She started to hobble off.

  “Mother, I did go over there.”

  “Never mind. It’s been taken care of.” But this was the end of Daphne helping. Every time she “helped,” it was not helpful.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  The hurt and accusation in her daughter’s voice were like fingernails on a chalkboard. Don’t say anything you’ll regret! Roberta took a deep breath and turned around. “Darling, I’m sure you meant to call or drop by. I do that, too, think I’ve done something when I haven’t gotten around to it.”

  “No.” Daphne frowned. “I went over there and talked to Kevin. I’m not completely incompetent, you know.”

  “Of course you’re not.” Roberta wished she’d postponed her bunion surgery. “Anyway, as I said, it’s all taken care of now.” So there was no need to be upset or to fuss at her daughter. But there was certainly cause to wonder what else would go wrong at this wedding.

  “I’m glad it is.” Daphne’s voice was as cold as the Wenatchee River during spring runoff. “But it should never have been a problem in the first place.”

  Oh, no. She wasn’t going to get the last word. “Why can’t you just admit you made a mistake?”

  “Because I didn’t! And why do you always have to believe the worst of me?”

  “Oh, Daphne. I do not.�
��

  “Yes, you do. And I’m tired of it.” With that, Daphne marched full steam ahead into the kitchen to arrange the chocolates on tiered china serving dishes.

  Roberta fell onto the nearest chair, exhausted, unhappy and irritated. Really, at her age she shouldn’t have to cope with disagreements and emotional undercurrents. She shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells, worrying about hurting her daughter’s feelings. Life had been so much simpler before Daphne and all her drama had returned to Icicle Falls.

  Was Daphne right? Did Roberta always believe the worst of her? Wanting to help her daughter improve her life didn’t mean Roberta saw her as a complete failure. She’d been a wonderful mother. Marnie was well-adjusted, happy, successful, and Daphne could take all the credit for that. In addition to raising a lovely daughter, she’d held down the same job for years. She’d been a responsible adult with no addictions or bad habits. Well, except the habit of making poor choices when it came to men. Of course, Roberta was in no position to throw stones, not from her glass house.

  Still, it was a mother’s job to advise her daughter. And once in a while, when the daughter had fumbled a simple task, a mother should be allowed to feel a little frustration without said daughter climbing on her high horse. Especially since that daughter had fumbled more than one simple task here at Primrose Haus. But, oh, no. Here she was, once again, the cruel, wicked mother, making her daughter’s life miserable.

  Darn it all, Daphne drove her crazy.

  Roberta continued to stew in her emotional juices for several minutes. Then she hobbled past the kitchen, where the atmosphere was decidedly frosty, to the back parlor sofa. She’d barely gotten settled when the phone sitting on the TV tray next to her started to ring. The last thing she wanted was to talk to anyone, so she ignored it. She wished she could ignore the fact that her daughter was in the next room, hurt and angry.

  Daphne picked up the kitchen extension. Roberta could hear her talking. “Hello, Heinrich. Yes,” Daphne said, her voice softening. “No, no problem. It could happen to anyone. But would you mind explaining to my mother?”

  A moment later she was standing next to Roberta, holding out the phone. “Talk to Heinrich,” she said brusquely.

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

  “Well, I want you to talk to him.”

  Roberta took the phone with all the eagerness of someone reaching for a rattlesnake and said a leery hello. Heinrich had probably returned to the shop and discovered his cooler had no lilies.

  “My darling, I am so sorry,” he said.

  No lilies. The bride was going to come unglued. Del would want a discount.

  “This is all our fault.”

  “You have no lilies,” she said weakly.

  “Oh, we have lilies. And I’ll be able to make your arrangements, but I needed to call and apologize right away. Your daughter did talk to Kevin, and he meant to tell me, but then Hildy Johnson came in and talked his ear off and it went right out of his head. Of course we’ll fix this, no extra charge.”

  “Thank you, Heinrich. I appreciate that.”

  So Daphne had indeed taken care of contacting the florist. Roberta felt ill. She’d been so determined to blame the problem on Daphne’s incompetence that she’d refused to believe her. Why did she always assume the worst about her daughter?

  Maybe it was programmed into her by her own mother. “I’m disappointed in you, Roberta. I raised you better.”...“Don’t think you can come back parading your illegitimate child here. I won’t have it. I won’t have you humiliate our family any further.”

  She’d failed to meet her mother’s expectations, and her mother had written her off like a bad investment. She’d never planned to do that with her own daughter, and yet how many times did she find herself feeling disappointed in Daphne? And how many times did that disappointment show? Maybe none as badly as today.

  She hobbled her way to the kitchen, where Daphne was busy with the chocolates. It was a short but painful trip, painful on so many levels.

  Daphne didn’t turn to look at her. “Did you get it all sorted out?” she asked.

  Very diplomatic. “Yes.” Roberta came closer, setting the phone on the counter. “Daphne, I’m sorry.”

  Daphne didn’t say anything. Instead, she shrugged as if to say it didn’t matter and kept on putting out truffles. No “I forgive you” was forthcoming. No hug. Not even any eye contact.

  Well, she deserved as much. “I’m terribly hard on you, aren’t I?”

  Daphne hesitated a moment, then returned to the task at hand. “I know I’m not the overachiever you wanted me to be.”

  “Possibly not,” Roberta admitted. “But we don’t all have to be overachievers.” And we don’t all have to be perfect. “You’re a generous, kindhearted woman.”

  “Apparently, that’s not enough.” Daphne picked up the tiered plates and left the kitchen.

  “Daphne, wait.” Roberta hobbled after her.

  Daphne didn’t wait. Instead, she picked up her pace.

  Roberta gave up. It was obvious that her daughter didn’t want to talk to her. Her foot was hurting now. She needed to sit down. She needed a pain pill. She wished there was a pill that could make her a better mother.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Daphne, the Queen of New Beginnings

  The mayor’s daughter got happily and memorably married. The bride was beautiful in her designer gown and her mother, also in a designer dress, was pleased with everything, especially the flowers. The house was packed with family and friends, movers and shakers, and everything went smoothly.

  Except for a slight catering crisis thanks to a horde of party-crashers. Daphne saved the day by whipping up some fast and easy appetizers, consisting of crackers and shrimp dip, as well as baking the mini quiches they stored in the big freezer in the basement for such emergencies. She halved the chicken, covered it in sauce and made an extra salad. Lila complimented her on how well she’d handled the situation. Her mother thanked her for all her hard work. It wasn’t enough to make her want to stay.

  Later that night, with Milo on the bed next to her, she spent some time on her laptop checking out rentals in Icicle Falls. She found a couple that would work, and just as she had when she’d first come home, she went to sleep with tears on her pillow.

  The following morning was Mother’s Day and Marnie called her on her cell phone while Daphne was still in bed, trying to ignore Milo, who was climbing on her chest, insisting it was time to get up. “Happy Mom’s Day,” she sang.

  “Honeybee, this is a nice surprise,” Daphne said, sitting up in bed.

  “Why should you be surprised? It is Mother’s Day.”

  “Yes, but you already sent those chocolate-covered strawberries on Friday.”

  From Sweet Dreams Chocolates, of course. They were big and juicy and gorgeous, not to mention pricey, and Daphne had enjoyed sharing them with her mother and Lila.

  She’d also enjoyed showing off her daughter’s good taste and thoughtfulness. With Marnie, there was a lot to brag about. Unlike her mother, she was doing everything right. She was succeeding in her career. She’d waited until her late twenties to get married and had picked a nice, stable man from a solid family, one with no history of divorce or bad romantic choices. Marnie’s life was as close to perfect as anyone’s could get. And so was she.

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you on Mother’s Day,” she said now. “Are you still liking Icicle Falls? ’Cause if you’re not, you could move out here with us.”

  “Oh, your husband would love that, having his mother-in-law underfoot.”

  “He thinks you’re great. So do I.”

  That little bit of flattery gave Daphne’s sagging spirits a much-needed lift. Someone appreciated her just as she was. Of course, maybe that w
as because she felt the same way about Marnie. She’d never tried to improve her, never hounded her to do more and be better. She’d let Marnie find her own path and become her own person, and she’d exceeded Daphne’s expectations. That was more than Daphne could say for herself and her mother.

  “What are you two going to do today?” Daphne asked.

  “We’re going to celebrate.”

  It wasn’t their wedding anniversary. “Did Alan get a raise?”

  “He got something,” Marnie said, her voice mysterious.

  “Okay, I give up. What are you celebrating?”

  “You’re going to be a grandma.”

  “A grandma?” Marnie was pregnant? Her baby was having a baby. Lately life had been serving her a lot of lemons. Here was the lemonade that made it all worthwhile. “Oh, honeybee, that’s fabulous. When are you due and what are you having?”

  “We don’t know yet. I just took the pregnancy test.”

  “Wow,” Daphne breathed. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “You’ll come out and help when the baby’s born, right?”

  “Just try and keep me away.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” Marnie said, a smile in her voice. “Tell Grandma, okay?”

  “I will.” She had a few things to tell Grandma this morning.

  They’d planned to go out to brunch at Zelda’s and Daphne had made a gift basket for her mother. She’d been looking forward to the day. Now, not so much. She loved her mother and she knew her mother loved her, but at the moment Daphne didn’t exactly like her. With a sigh, she got out of bed.

  “Carpe diem,” Mother would say. Seize the day, never waste a minute. It was how she managed to accomplish so much. Maybe Daphne should have carpe diem-ed more. Maybe then she would’ve been a success story, too, like her mother and her daughter. Or maybe success sometimes skipped a generation.