by Hope Ramsay
“Oh, thank God.” Brenda breathed out a sigh.
“And to be honest,” Ella continued, “I also had a chance to audition for the Myrtle Beach Symphony. Ashley arranged it. But that was a few weeks ago, and I haven’t heard back from them. And well, I didn’t want to get your hopes up or…”
“Have me push you in that direction?”
Ella shrugged. “It’s not happening. We both know I’m not cut out for that kind of music.”
Brenda didn’t know any such thing, but she kept her mouth shut and gave Ella a big hug. “I’m sure you’ll find work in Nashville. And it’s not that far away.”
“I’ll be home for Christmas. I promise. And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. But I’ve been so confused about my next steps. First I thought I’d play fiddle for Cody, but then I realized what a mistake that would be. And then the audition happened. And well…” She shrugged. “I guess I ran out of time, and it seemed unfair to Ashley to walk away from her in the middle of the summer when she’s so busy. I needed to give her time to find someone. And I need a real job. So Nashville makes the most sense.”
“Oh honey, I wish you’d told me. I think Nashville is perfect for you.”
“You do?”
“You’ll be successful there, I’m certain. And I’m glad we had this talk. Now I don’t have to feel as if something terrible is about to happen.”
“No, Mom, things are fine,” Ella said, but the tremor in her voice contradicted her words. And right then, Brenda understood that she couldn’t tie her daughter down. She had to let Ella go.
“Okay, y’all, we need to stop before we all mess up our mascara,” Momma said, ushering Ella out of the room. “Brenda, honey, you put on your wedding dress and stop thinking about anything other than getting married. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brenda said as Momma shut the bathroom door. She slipped into the dress she’d bought in Charleston a few weeks ago, when Ella and Momma had taken her down there and made her spend Jim’s money. Constructed of ivory lace with a nipped-in waist and an A-line tulle skirt covered in lace appliqués, it had a retro vibe that Brenda loved.
She opened the door to find Ella looking utterly breathtaking in the coral chiffon dress they’d bought from the same Charleston wedding shop. Ella’s dress also had a lace top with a floaty skirt that was just perfect for her. The color brought out the blush in her cheeks and the fire in her hair.
Maybe she had always wanted Ella to play in a symphony, but if her daughter truly wanted to pursue a career in Nashville, Brenda would support her. On the other hand, if Ella was leaving because she felt that she was out of options, that was a whole different matter.
But now was not the time to have a deep family discussion about Ella’s future. There would be time after the small reception. So she struck a pose in the bathroom door. “Do you think I look okay?” she asked.
“Oh, Mom. You’re beautiful,” Ella said. “Here, I’ve got your hat.” She held up the confection of fabric and netting that Momma had talked Brenda into during the shopping trip. Momma was of the view that every bride needed some kind of veil.
“It’s a fascinator,” Momma said with a giggle.
“Exactly, and when Jim sees it, he will be utterly fascinated.” Ella pinned the headpiece to Brenda’s fancy hairdo and then adjusted the birdcage veil.
Brenda laughed out loud. “Look at me. I look pretty.” She shook her head in astonishment. “I’m so glad y’all talked me into this dress and this silly hat.”
“It’s nothing, honey. We weren’t going to let you get married in sweatpants, which is exactly what you probably would have done without us,” Momma said with a big smile.
* * *
The boutonniere Dylan pinned to Dad’s lapel had a sprig of deeply fragrant lavender surrounded by some shiny green leaves.
“I hope this doesn’t make you sneeze at the wrong moment,” he said.
“Have you got the ring?” Dad responded in the tones of a nervous bride groom.
“I’ve got the ring. I’ve got the marriage license too. Were you this nervous the first time?” He stepped back and inspected his handiwork. The flowers were cockeyed but not enough to fix.
“Good,” Dad said. “Don’t sneeze and lose it at the wrong moment.”
Dylan gave his father a look. His father returned it.
“So, are we ready?” Dylan asked.
“Yeah, but before we go…”
Oh boy, here it came. Dylan recognized that fatherly tone. They were going to have a father-son conversation. And Dylan preferred to avoid that.
He didn’t want to talk about feelings right now. Because they were raw and ugly, and who needed that on a wedding day?
But Dad had other ideas. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. And I’m so happy for you.”
Dad gave him a paternal stare. “That’s a load of bull.”
Dylan shrugged. “What do want me to say? You and Brenda go off to Nancy’s for dinner every Friday, and I’m never invited.” It seemed like a whiny thing to say on Dad’s wedding day, especially since staying away from family gatherings was probably smart. He didn’t want to inadvertently expose his deep feelings for Ella. But he still felt isolated and alone. And sad.
“I’m sorry,” Dad said.
It didn’t help dispel Dylan’s gloomy mood. “I don’t get it. You know I didn’t invite Tammy to the damn engagement party. Why doesn’t Brenda believe that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you treated Ella so badly.”
He ground his teeth. That was the trump card Dylan could never play. He hadn’t treated Ella badly at all. In fact, she was the one who’d dumped him in the emergency room that night. He’d simply stood there and taken it.
Like a team player.
Okay, he hadn’t started out as a team player. So some of this was his own fault. But Brenda didn’t give second chances.
Unlike her daughter, who had evidently decided to give that jerk she’d been with all those years another chance. Last Sunday, Donna Cuthbert, the town gossip, told him that Ella had given her notice at the inn and was planning to leave Magnolia Harbor in order to pursue her musical career.
He blew out a breath, trying to extinguish the slow simmer, one part angry and one part pathetic, which burned in his gut.
“Son, I’m sorry but you should never have tried to turn Ella against her mother.”
“I never did that.”
“No? You bullied her, right at the start, when you told her that Brenda and I wanted her to move out of the beach house.”
Well, there was that. “Okay, you have a point.”
Dad shook his head and turned away, clearly upset.
“Look, Dad, I don’t want you to be unhappy, okay? I’m glad you’re getting married. And I know you love Brenda. So it’s fine. Maybe in time Brenda will realize that I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Maybe she will. But in the meantime, I expect you to be on your best behavior today. Don’t screw it up.”
“I won’t. I promise.” So no getting drunk and cornering Ella and grilling her to find out if she was going back to that red-faced redneck. Or worse yet, telling Ella that he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Or telling her that he’d fallen in love with her. Nope. That was not allowed.
“You know one thing that would help?” Dad said.
“What?”
“You could find a nice girl and settle down. I bet if you had a couple of kids, Brenda would warm up to you real fast. She loves children. She was a teacher for a long time, you know.”
He stared at his father for a moment, letting the irony settle into his bones. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.
* * *
The Killough-McMillan wedding was going to be a small one. Only family and one or two close friends. Maybe fifteen people max. And the wedding guests would be staying after the ceremony for an hour or so for a tea service, which would be limited today to the private party.
<
br /> A handful of chairs had been set up in the rose garden, along with a small canopy at one end so the guests would have a view of the bay across the lawn and the bride could make her entrance through the arched garden gate. The canopy was decorated with a garland of eucalyptus leaves and blush-colored hydrangeas.
Ashley finished wiring the last of the blossoms to the garland and stepped back to admire her handiwork. The setting, with its view of the bay, always stole her breath. Unfortunately, today was still and quiet and hot as the dickens.
Ashley hated it when the weather refused to cooperate. She loved hosting weddings at Howland House and she wanted them all to be perfect in every way. Weddings brought her joy. And since her B&B wasn’t all that large, the weddings here were never big extravaganzas. Like the one scheduled today, they were small, intimate affairs where she got to know the bride and groom.
Since today’s bride and groom were locals, she considered them friends. Which was a problem today. She knew a secret that had been weighing heavily on her for quite some time. It had become a millstone around her neck ever since Ella had given her notice.
Ella and Dylan had ended their brief affair. But Ashley couldn’t shake the feeling that the couple had backed off because of Brenda’s medical problems. That seemed wrong. And it seemed wrong for Ella to be running away.
She’d told everyone that she was leaving to pursue her musical career, but she’d been vague about that. If only Norton Treloar had come through and offered her the open seat in the symphony. But maybe Ella wasn’t quite as talented as Ashley thought. She’d had this stupid idea that if Ella got a job thirty minutes away in Myrtle Beach, she would stay, and then the romance between her and Dylan might reignite.
And then everyone would have a happy ending. Ashley loved happy endings these days. She hoped every new bride and groom got to have a long, long life together before death parted them.
She blew out a sigh and turned away from the canopy to go check on the kitchen help, but just then, Rev. St. Pierre came strolling through the garden gate.
He was still having breakfast down the street with Brooklyn, which meant she didn’t see him as often these days. Only on Sundays or at museum board meetings. But they’d never again had a conversation like the one they’d had about Adam and Grandmother.
Which was a good thing, probably, because she’d followed his advice, evicting the Piece Makers from the inn, only to discover that she missed baking for them. And she hated going over to Patsy’s every Tuesday because she had to find someone to watch the inn and keep an eye on Jackie.
So she’d gotten what she’d wanted. But not really.
Maybe she’d totally misunderstood what he’d been trying to tell her about moving on in her life. But damned if she was about to knock on his door and ask for further guidance.
“Hey,” she said.
He nodded and checked his watch. “I guess I’m a little early.”
“You’re officiating at this wedding?”
“I am. You were expecting Pastor Pasidena perhaps?”
“I guess not, since Jim’s defected.”
“Score one for the Episcopalians.” His mouth twitched in that almost-smile that was so disarming.
“So…” he said, clasping his arms behind his back. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear that the Rev was nervous. Why would he be nervous?
“Well…” She backed up a few paces. “Gotta go check on the—”
“Ashley,” he interrupted, “I want to apologize.”
“What?”
“You’re right. I should never have pressed you about the Piece Makers. I was—”
“But I kicked them out of Howland House.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “I haven’t baked them a cake in weeks. You haven’t noticed the dearth of cars every Tuesday night? We’re meeting at Patsy’s these days.”
He shook his head. “No, I hadn’t noticed.”
Of course not. “Well, I did what you said I should do.”
“I didn’t say you should do that.”
“No? You sure suggested it. But it’s fine. No more obligations.” She smiled and decided not to confess her dissatisfaction with the outcome. She had more important things to talk about. And it struck her, like the sun glaring down on her head, that she really missed having coffee with him most mornings.
“You got a minute?” she asked.
He checked his watch. “At least five,” he said.
“Walk with me.” She turned and walked through the garden’s back gate by the cottage and headed down the curving path across the lawn in the direction of the live oak, which Jackie fondly referred to as “the captain’s tree.”
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“I know I have a gigantic penance to pay for the mistakes I made last year with Topher. I meddled in his life. I gossiped and messed things up for him. And I promised myself I’d never gossip again.”
“Good thinking.”
She stopped and turned. “But what if I know something? A secret that needs to be spoken out loud.”
“Who’s kept this secret? You?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s someone else’s secret.”
“Then you don’t get to tell anyone.”
“That’s what I thought.” She looked away toward the bay. The big trees shaded her from the unrelenting sun, and she wondered if maybe she should have set up the wedding here. Too late now. She looked at the Rev out of the corner of her eye. “What if this secret is hurting the person keeping it?”
“There’s not much you can do.”
“Dammit…Ugh, sorry.”
“This must be a pretty big secret.”
“Micah, I need your special kind of help.”
“What?”
“Do you remember that time when you got all up in Jude’s face and made him see what an idiot he’d be to let Jenna run away?”
“Yeah, so?”
“And the way you pushed Topher to take a chance on Jessica?”
“I remember that too.”
“And I don’t know if you had anything to do with Noah and Lia, but Lia is your friend and you went up to talk to her the night Noah decided not to move away.”
“I had nothing to do with that. Honestly. What are you driving at?”
“I need that kind of help. Right now. Today.”
“Wait. Are you asking me to be some kind of matchmaker?”
She shook her head. “No. The match is already made. It just needs a little push in the right direction.”
“Who are we talking about?”
“Ella and Dylan.” Ashley said the names in a hoarse whisper.
And Micah stood there staring at her as if she’d grown another head.
“Are you delusional?” he finally asked. “From the gossip on the street, they hate each other.”
“They do not hate each other. They were…”
“What?”
“Well…hanging out. A lot. At night. But they broke it off right after Brenda got sick. I think they’re worried about messing things up for their parents. Oh my goodness, this is so complicated.”
“Yeah, it is. Ashley, I’m not going to—”
“Forget it. It was a crazy idea.”
“How do you know all this?” His tone was almost accusatory.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t been spying. But Ella lives under my roof, and I’m not blind. There is no question she and Dylan were having a fling. The rest is conjecture on my part. But Jackie says he’s heard her crying sometimes at night when he goes to the bathroom.”
“Jackie is a spy.”
“I know. But in this case, I believe him. He’s worried about her. I’m worried about her. She’s going away. She says it’s to pursue her career, but I don’t buy it. I think she’s going because she loves Dylan.”
“But you don’t know that. And you’re asking me to do what? Have a talk with her right in the middle of her mother’s wedding?”
“Yeah, I know. Crazy. But, Micah, you have a knack for this kind of thing.”
He shook his head. “I most certainly do not have a knack for matchmaking or meddling in people’s lives. And I don’t think revealing this secret to the bride and groom on their wedding day is a good idea. Do you?”
She shook her head. “I guess not. I was just hoping for a miracle, you know?”
“Well, I’m not a miracle worker.” He pointed up. “That’s the job description of the guy upstairs. So I suggest you pray to Him.” Micah shifted his gaze. “Looks like wedding guests are starting to arrive.”
Ashley turned, and sure enough, Brooklyn Huddleston, a vision of summertime loveliness in a pink sundress and straw hat, stood by the garden gate waving at Micah. The woman was at least half an hour early for this wedding. But then again, so was Micah.
And he was waving back at her with a gigantic grin on his face.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ella took her place on the left side of the canopy and placed her music on the stand. She’d been practicing these selections for weeks now and had them mostly memorized, but the music was a good backup.
The music also provided a safe haven for her to hide behind. She could hold herself together and keep the loneliness and regret from overwhelming her by just focusing on the notes.
As long as she was lost in the music, she wouldn’t have to look at Dylan. She could put it off until the ceremony began. Once the processional was finished, she was supposed to put her violin down and join Mom as her maid of honor under the canopy. She wished to hell she didn’t have to do that because Dylan was Jim’s best man. There would be no way to avoid seeing him.
She’d been avoiding that for weeks now, ever since he’d left her table at Rafferty’s that night. Of course, she’d caught a glimpse of him once or twice downtown. And the other night she’d gone to Annie’s for dinner and he was there, so she’d turned around and gotten a burger on the boardwalk instead.
She needed to get out of town or she might make a fateful mistake that would send Mom back to the hospital or something. She just needed to get through today, and it would be smooth sailing after that.
She already had her bus ticket to Nashville.
