The Wedding Wish (Summer Grooms Series)

by Baird, Ginny

  Buddy asked him a question, and he turned to address it, believing he’d spotted a familiar face as he did. “That’s right,” he told his foreman, “nobody in the interior courtyard this time. Not until the skylights are all set and the scaffolding removed.”

  Not twenty feet behind him, he heard a male voice say, “I can’t believe it! You actually heard from Susan?”

  But what caused him to set his jaw was the voice Kip heard next. The voice belonging to none other than Isabel’s indomitable new boyfriend. “I was starting to think she’d never call. You know what I’m saying? Like maybe I’d dreamed it.”

  “I hear ya, man,” the other one said. “But sometimes dreams can come true.”

  Kip angled his hat and glanced casually over his shoulder. It was Robert Reed all right. Talking one-on-one with some other guy as they trailed behind a group of students.

  “This one’s been a long time coming, that’s for sure,” Robert said.

  “So when are you going to see her?”

  “As soon as she’ll let me, I guess.” Robert gave a happy chuckle as his voice trailed away, and it was all Kip could do not to wheel around and tackle him. Kip had played football in high school and hadn’t forgotten any of those moves. Okay, so maybe he was a little wider in the gut, but his shoulders were still as broad. And he sure as hell knew how to handle somebody messing with his daughter. Man to man, that’s how.

  “Kip?” Buddy asked, his face questioning. It was only then that Kip realized he’d missed some sort of question. “What should I tell the guys?”

  “You can tell them…” Kip narrowed his eyes toward the sidewalk as Robert and his pal strolled away. “Just wait until they have daughters!” he said with an angry growl.

  “Now, Kip,” Trudy said on the porch, “I want you to calm down.” She’d just poured them a pitcher of lemonade, and at Kip’s insistence had also retrieved a bottle of vodka. He dumped some in his pink glass and frowned.

  “None it sounds good, Trudy, and you know it.”

  “Goodness gracious, who knows what you overheard? You could be mistaken.”

  “About Robert being called by a woman named Susan, and him having a burning itch to see her? A burning itch that…let me guess, here…he likely wants Susan to scratch?”

  “You’re getting carried away again. For heaven’s sakes, Susan could be his sister!”

  Kip set down his glass and stared at her. “The Reeds lived beside us for years. You know very well Robert’s sister’s name is Teresa.”

  She sighed and sat on the porch swing beside him. “Be that as it may, what you have here is nothing more than idle speculation—over a conversation you weren’t even supposed to have overheard.”

  “Precisely what makes it so damning.”

  “Or—on the other hand—totally misunderstood.”

  Kip grunted and refilled his glass.

  “I need you to promise me something.” Her face was lined with concern. “Promise you won’t breathe a word of this to Isabel.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because, darling,” she said calmly, “you don’t even know for a fact what’s going on. Honestly? Do you want to get Isabel’s feelings all stirred up over what could possibly be nothing?”

  But if it was nothing, then why did Kip’s gut tell him that is was something? Something not so good… It was just as he’d suspected all along. Robert Reed wasn’t totally what he said he was. Something was up with that boy, something that threatened to upset his daughter. And Kip didn’t like it one bit.

  “Isabel will be here any moment. She said she’s coming with some good news. So let’s be the loving, supportive parents and wait and hear what she has to say, why don’t we?”

  He set his jaw.

  “Kip… Please promise me, honey. Not a word.”

  Just then, Isabel’s sweet voice called from the foyer. “Mom? Dad? Anybody home?”

  “We’re on the porch, dear!” Trudy called. She brought her finger to her lips in a silencing motion, and Kip harrumphed.

  A few seconds later, Isabel pressed through the kitchen’s screen door. “I have great news,” she said, her face full of sunshine. “My work’s been accepted at the opening!”

  Trudy squealed and stood to hug her. “That’s wonderful, baby!”

  Kip stood, offering a congratulatory hug as well. “Is this the art show you were after? The big one at the Smith Center?”

  “The biggest one in town,” Isabel said with a proud grin. “What’s more, I get to curate the show!”

  “What’s that mean?” Kip asked Trudy in a whisper.

  “She gets to put it together,” Trudy answered back.

  “That sounds very impressive,” Kip said, his chest welling with pride. “We’re so proud of you, sweetheart. When is the special day?”

  “Next Friday,” she said with a smile. “And it’s going to be a really fancy affair. Cocktail dresses and wine. A caterer and everything.”

  Trudy oohed and ahhed, apparently liking the sound of this.

  “Of course, you’re both invited.”

  “Will Robert be there?” Kip asked.

  “Of course he will,” Trudy said, like that was the silliest question.

  Isabel’s dainty face drooped in a frown. “Actually,” she said, “he won’t.”

  “Why not?” Kip pressed.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Trudy butted in. “Friday’s his night at the lab.”

  “It’s not that.” She met her parents’ expectant faces. “He’s going out of town.”

  “Out of town?” Kip’s deep tenor rose a decibel, and Trudy laid a hand on his forearm.

  “It seems he has some kind of business in New York.”

  Kip opened his mouth to speak, and Trudy tightened the grip of her fingers. Kip winced and zipped his lip. Totally against his better judgment, but to avoid fireworks with his wife later.

  “We’re very sorry about that, dear,” Trudy said. “We know you must be disappointed.”

  “Yeah,” Isabel answered. “I am. But I guess the timing couldn’t be helped.”

  Robert walked Isabel home after they’d shared a late lunch. It was Thursday afternoon, and he’d be leaving for the airport soon. “I’m really sorry about missing your opening. If there was any way in the world to change the timing of my trip, I would.”

  “But you can’t.”

  “I’ve waited for this day forever. But, in all honesty, I didn’t get to pick it.”

  “I wish you could tell me where you’re going.”

  “New York.”

  “I meant, why.”

  As they approached her building, Robert stopped, taking her in his arms. “I hope you believe me when I say the why has a whole lot to do with you.”

  “I want to believe,” she said, looking up at him.

  “Then do.” He kissed her softly. “I’ve been through some stuff, Isabel. But my whole world is about to change, and when it does, I want you in it.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because, Izzy.” He reached forward and thumbed her nose. “I don’t want to jinx it. Don’t want to take any chance of things going wrong. But when I turn them around, and everything’s right, you’ll be the first one to know. I can promise you that.”

  “When are you coming home?”

  “Just as soon as I can,” he said, pulling her close.

  Chapter Seven

  Isabel was nervous but excited. Her big night had at long last arrived. She’d managed to orchestrate this show highlighting an array of graduate students’ work, while speaking to a unified theme about preserving nature in the environment. The installations here were awe-inspiring and innovative, and Isabel was pleased she’d played a part in pulling the disparate—yet interesting—displays together. She hadn’t had much time to survey students in the department and canvass entries relating to her chosen topic. But it had all come together for her somehow. And the flash of inspiration had left her breathless at
its outcome.

  “Fabulous work,” her favorite instructor told her. “Inspiring.”

  Isabel beamed from ear to ear as appreciative arts patrons flooded the main gallery. “Thanks for giving me this chance.”

  “There’s no one who deserves it more than you,” Elizabeth said. “You have promise, Isabel, and a keen eye. Not just as an artist but as a curator too.”

  Isabel hoped that was true. While she wanted to pursue her own art, she also understood she’d need to put bread on the table. Curatorial practices was not a bad field, and one to which she was establishing entrees from the likes of Elizabeth and several of her contacts, to whom Elizabeth had been kind enough to introduce her.

  “Oh look!” she told her teacher. “There are my parents.”

  “Why don’t you go on over and say hello?” Elizabeth urged.

  Isabel carried her glass of Chablis in their direction, feeling every bit the sophisticate that she’d aspired to be. Imagine! Her own opening! And at a well-known gallery besides. Just because it held a university affiliation didn’t make it any less important. Competition in the arts was keen these days, and Isabel knew it. She was just so very grateful to have been given this opportunity to make some meager inroads.

  “Mom, Dad,” she said, crossing to them with an open-armed hug. “Thanks so much for coming.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it,” her dad said.

  Her mom smiled fondly. “We’re so proud of you, Isabel.”

  Kip nodded. “Yes. We are.”

  “Come on and let me get you both a glass of wine. Then I’ll show you around.”

  Kip laid another small sandwich on his plate and surreptitiously surveyed the art before him. There sure seemed to be a lot of nudies here. Then again, that had been passing for art since the old days. He chomped on the tiny triangle and wrinkled his nose. Why did this taste like he’d just sampled a salad with ranch dressing?

  Trudy, who walked ahead, her armed linked in Isabel’s, smiled over her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Kip. Going for the whole-wheat veggie sandwiches. Very sound.”

  Kip stared down at the offending crudité in horror. No wonder it was so terrible. It was good for him! He quickly scanned the room, then slid his sandwich remains onto a passing tray, which carted off dirty dishes. Isabel shared a laugh with her mom, then glanced back at him.

  “Finished already? That’s great, Dad. Why don’t you go and get some more?”

  Yeah, maybe he’d do that. He’d spied some meatballs in the buffet that looked a lot more his speed.

  “And load up on the meatballs!” Isabel chirped as if reading his mind. “They’re vegan!”

  Kip stopped halfway to the buffet table and grunted. He knew they should have stopped to eat before coming here, but Trudy had protested there’d be plenty of food. Like any of this healthy stuff counted. The line ahead of him moved along, and Kip spotted something intriguing. To his delight, it was a vat of miniature hotdogs drenched in what smelled like a delicious bourbon sauce. “Those aren’t tofu?” he asked the caterer, who was resetting the tea lights beneath the various pans.

  “One hundred percent all beef.”

  Kip sighed with relief and piled his plate high, thinking if this was what it took to get through the night without his stomach grumbling, he’d do it. Isabel still had to give her speech introducing the guest artists, and he supposed that afterwards, he and Trudy would be expected to mingle some more. He poked a wiener with a toothpick, then popped it in his mouth. Mmmm, succulent. A split-second later he nearly spit it back out, unable to believe what he was seeing. It was Robert! In the all-together. Just as naked as the day he was born, the colorful canvass centered right behind the hot dogs, of all things. Miniature hot dogs, Kip reminded himself. He carted his plate toward the canvas to get a closer look, realizing that Robert’s attributes more than measured up. Kip set down his plate on a nearby cart, suddenly losing his appetite.

  “Wonderful, isn’t it?” A woman wearing a name tag that read Elizabeth asked him. “I believe that’s Isabel’s most promising work.”

  “Isabel?” Kip felt the blood drain from his face.

  “She’s our featured artist tonight,” the woman explained, “and this exhibit’s curator.” She studied him a moment, her face lighting up. “Say, aren’t you Mr. Miller?”

  “Your father’s taking an awfully long time getting his food,” Trudy told Isabel. “I’ll go see what’s keeping him.” Just then a couple of arts patrons approached, wanting to offer their congratulations to Isabel. After a brief introduction, Trudy excused herself and made for the bar, where Kip stood pouring two glasses of wine.

  “That’s sweet of you, dear,” Trudy said, assuming one of them was for her. “But I haven’t even finished my first yet.”

  Without saying a word, Kip downed one, then set it on the table. “These are both for me.”

  “But what…?”

  He motioned with the second glass still in his hand, and Trudy’s gaze traveled across the room. “Oh my!” she said, her gaze falling on the picture. She stepped a little closer as Kip trailed her. “Is that Robert?”

  “In the flesh,” Kip answered dryly.

  Trudy nursed her wine and considered the portrait. “Well, well. He certainly has grown up.”

  “Trudy!” Kip scolded. “Watch yourself.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “I know what you’re saying. He’s no longer Mr. Little Bitty from next door. He’s got the whole Oscar Mayer thing going on.”

  “Kip!”

  “I see you two found my painting,” Isabel said, approaching.

  Trudy shot Kip a warning look, telling him to hold his tongue.

  “Yes, dear,” Trudy said sweetly. “You did…mighty good work.”

  Isabel sighed at the portrait. “It helped that I had a mighty good model.”

  Kip’s temples pulsed so hard he feared his whole face might explode. “I just have one question.” Trudy stealthily pinched him, but he continued anyway. “Did he pose for the whole class, or was it a private sitting?”

  Two and a half hours later, Trudy and Kip exited the Smith Center. He plucked a hanky from his pocket to wipe his brow, not knowing how he’d lived through it. His only daughter was not only involved with some leech with a treacherous secret, she’d been painting nudie pictures of him too! Kip didn’t know how, but things seemed to have gone from bad to worse. In fact, he didn’t see how they could get any more abysmal. That was what he thought until he saw Robert stepping to the curb from a cab.

  Trudy tugged on his elbow, apparently having seen Robert as well. “I want you to remember yourself,” she said. “And think of your daughter. This is her night, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want to do anything to ruin it.”

  They descended the granite stairs and met Robert halfway as he ascended. “Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” he said with surprise.

  “It’s nice to see you, Robert,” Trudy said. “We didn’t think you could make it.”

  “Almost didn’t,” he said, a bit winded. “Got a last-minute flight back and had to hightail it here from the airport.”

  “Where were you again?” Kip asked, purposely oblivious.

  Robert’s gaze darted to the museum entrance, then settled on his again. “New York.”

  “We knew that, Kip,” Trudy said mildly. “Let’s move along.”

  But Kip stayed planted in place like a pillar. “And what, pray tell, were you doing in New York? Seeing someone?” Trudy tugged at his arm as Robert blinked hard.

  “Sir, I can explain—”

  “So you weren’t seeing Susan?”

  “I’m sure she’s just a friend,” Trudy inserted.

  “No, ma’am, an attorney.”

  “Attorney?” Kip parroted. “What’s this? My artist daughter isn’t good enough for you?”

  “No, sir. I mean, yes, sir. Isabel is plenty good enough. Way too good for me, in fact.”

  Kip glared at him. “You’ve got that part
right.”

  Robert steeled his nerves and barreled ahead. “The truth is I went there because I had to. I had something important to take care of. Get out of, I mean.”

  Trudy’s face creased with worry. “A previous engagement?”

  “No, ma’am.” He glanced at Kip and flinched as if anticipating a blow. “My marriage.”

  That was the last word he heard before Kip’s top blew off. The next thing Robert knew, Kip had tackled him to the steps and had corralled him by the collar.

  “Kip! What are you doing?” Trudy yelped.

  “What I should have done ages ago!” Kip hollered. He tugged Robert up toward him by his lapels. “You mean to tell me that all this time—the whole time you’ve been seeing Isabel—you were married to somebody else?”

  “Technically, yes, but—”

  “Were you or weren’t you, Robert?” Trudy asked in shock.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller,” he said, his face beet red. “I apologize for lying to both of you. But it’s really not like you— Ow!”

  Kip yanked him forward to spew out the words, “You had the nerve to come into my house…? To deceive not just Isabel, but all of us?” He glanced at Trudy, who appeared faint. “We have to tell Isabel.”

  “I’m going to tell her,” Robert squawked. “I was on my way just now!”

  “Kip,” Trudy said. “He’s right. This is for the two of them to work out.”

  Kip would prefer to work things out right here and now. Mano a mano with Robert, that little pipsqueak. But he knew that his wife wouldn’t forgive him. Isabel, God love her, might even get angry with him too. Though if she asked her dad to settle things up with Robert later, he’d be more than happy to do it. He felt Trudy’s hand on his shoulder and released his grip, leaving a stunned Robert to fall back on his elbows. “You!” he said with a parting growl. “Stay away from my daughter!”

  As they left, Trudy glanced sadly over her shoulder. “You really disappointed us, Robert. And I was one of the ones pulling for you.”