by Melissa Hill
Terri felt like a heel.
She thought she’d tried her best to hide her ongoing distrust of Rachel’s fiancé, but clearly she hadn’t been trying hard enough.
In fairness to the guy, he did seem to be treating Rachel with the care and respect she deserved this time round, but Terri still couldn't forget the less-than-ideal circumstances surrounding their first engagement, and try as she might she still couldn't help but hold that against Gary.
“It’s not that I dislike him or anything,” she assured Rachel. “It’s just after everything that happened last time …” She shrugged. “Who knows?” she said, deciding to change the subject altogether. “Maybe I'm just jealous that he's stealing my best friend away. After all, it’s been just the two of us for so long now…”
Rachel interrupted her. “That’s not true. You had Ethan,” she sniffed.
“Do you really want to bring that up now?” Terri tried to hide her frustration. When Rachel had let it slip at brunch that Ethan and his ten-year old daughter Daisy were going to the wedding, she had attempted to push the thought away.
It wasn’t as though she could stop her friend from inviting him. Ethan had a huge part to play in what had happened in New York last time, and she knew that Rachel considered him a friend and they had kept in touch - the circumstances with Terri notwithstanding.
“Look, let’s just stay on the subject here and now,” she continued, pursing her lips. “Gary loves you. What happened last time will not happen again, and you shouldn't let it cloud your judgement now. That’s all way behind you now, and next Saturday, you two are going to be married in New York and all set for happy ever after. There is one thing you might have to worry about, though…” She gestured to her friend’s gown, the skirt still lying in a messy pile on the ground.
Rachel looked around at herself as she realised what she’d been doing. She jumped up, Terri grabbing her arm to balance her.
“Oh no, it is ruined? Did I wrinkle it?” She spun around, attempting to see the back of the dress in the mirrors.
“No, it’s not ruined,” Terri reassured her. “It’s perfect.”
She stood back and took a proper look at her friend in her wedding dress.
Delicate lace straps formed a keyhole opening around the curves of her shoulder blades. The front of the gown was covered in more lace floral appliqué. Large white buttons raced down the entire length of the back. The A-line silk skirt and the chapel length train were perfect compliments for her curvy frame.
She reached over to a hook and gently took down a small diamante headpiece. It sparkled brightly in the shop’s lighting.
Terri stood on her tip toes as she gathered Rachel’s dark tresses into a loose bun and sealed it in place with one of her own hair ties.
Stepping back, she took in the sight of her friend in the dress she would wear walking down the aisle.
A maternal sensation took over her as she smiled brightly at her.
“Don’t you start getting sentimental on me now. It’s my job to be the crying bride. You’re supposed to tell me to cop on.” Rachel turned to face the mirrors as she wiped the remaining bits of mascara and eyeliner from her face. She took in a deep breath as she said, “Now, what do I say to the others?”
“Well, you certainly can’t let them know you’ve been crying — they’d love the idea of trouble in paradise. Anyway who cares what they think? Let them wait. Indefinitely.” Terri began impersonating Linda's whiny, insipid voice and drawn out accent, “It’s not like they have anything better to do…”
A timely knock on the door from the attendant ushered them back outside. Out front, Terri as chief bridesmaid took her place next to Cora and Linda.
The cousins had occupied themselves looking through celebrity gossip rags and chatting about some celebrity’s mistress and another’s lack of style.
When Rachel finally came out of the dressing room, neither could be bothered to put down their magazine and acknowledge the woman standing before them, let alone question whether or not she’d been crying.
Terri cleared her throat as finally Linda looked up at the bride.
“Wow Rachel… you look stunning. Normally, I find lace to be old-hat, but on you, it looks totally inspired. What do you think, Cora?”
The younger sister remained focused on her magazine, “Yes, yes. I agree. Lace is so outdated.” Linda elbowed her hard and gave her a piercing look. Cora took a long look at Rachel and attempted to rectify her mistake, “... But on you… it’s just … timeless.”
With that, the girls returned to their magazines, Rachel and the attendant discussed transit options for the dresses, and Terri sat back and took in the moment. Tomorrow, she would be flying to New York to see her best friend make her long-held dream come true, with a romantic Central Park wedding to Gary Knowles.
Over the next few days, she knew that for Rachel, she could get past being away from her beloved restaurant to spend time a brash American city she knew should wouldn't like, with this pair of insensitive head-wrecking relations in tow, and could even manage to cast aside her misgivings about Gary.
What Terri was not sure she could survive, was coming face to face once again with her ex and his adorable daughter.
It had been a good eighteen months since their breakup, and Terri knew that she should be over it by now.
Though she’d thought they might be able to overcome the issue of living in different cities, it was a hurdle that eventually proved too difficult.
Besides, Ethan and Daisy’s life in London had continued on perfectly well without her in the picture, just as she had predicted.
And Terri wasn’t doing so bad for herself either. Yes, she cared about him, had allowed herself to fall for him, but it wasn't long before the reality of their situation hit hard, and unlike Ethan, she wasn't going to kid herself that obstacles didn't exist.
But the mere reminder of him, and how their budding relationship had ended almost before it began, still had the emotional impact to knock her to the core.
Terri knew that her decision to let Ethan and Daisy go was the right one.
And she knew that when she saw them again in New York, she would just have to keep convincing herself of that.
7
The mobile phone vibrated wildly against the large wooden desk, shaking the papers and the pencils from their place.
Ethan’s concentration was broken as he struggled to pull himself away from his work to check on the alert that popped up on the phone’s screen.
Four o’clock already? Oh hell, not again.
His mind raced as he struggled to go through the list of all the things he needed to collect before he left.
He turned towards his work desk and picked up the sloppy pile of paperwork in one hand and his brown leather briefcase in the other.
Hurrying out of his office, he grabbed his umbrella and coat from the hook outside. His secretary and personal assistant Nancy stood as she watched him open his briefcase on the edge of her desk. He ruffled through the contents in a panic, tossing papers he no longer needed back on her work area.
When he failed to notice her, she leaned across the desk and rested her hands against the leather carrying case, her bouncy brown hair falling like waves across her chest. “Is there anything I can do for you, Professor Greene?” Her voice was honey sweet. It oozed out of her brightly painted red lips.
“No, it’s fine Nancy. I'm just running late today.”
Nancy looked at him puzzled, her brow furrowing as she took a glance at her computer screen. “There’s nothing in the diary for the rest of the day. Have I forgotten something?” She batted her long black eyelashes at him innocently as he tossed a large notepad into a brown organiser.
Ethan did not register her flirtatious looks. In fact, he had got so used to the majority of his secretaries being outwardly coy with him. In the last year alone, he had gone through three personal assistants. His last, Anna, had to be let go when she decided to get a little
bit too close for comfort — literally.
From then on, he unintentionally became the gossip of the faculty. His colleagues teasingly deemed him as the “playboy professor.” It was a title Ethan was not fond of. And his newest personal assistant wasn’t exactly doing her best to help him crush that reputation either.
She had spent most of her first two weeks probation sporting tight outfits that unbuttoned rather too easily for his taste. He had considered asking one of the more senior administration staff to talk to her about her appearance, but was too nervous to do so. Instead, he let it go, hoping that his obvious attempts to avoid her flirtatious advances would send the right message.
For now, he knew his best course of action was to just ignore it. Instead of looking at Nancy’s young, unblemished face, he kept his eyes down and focused on grabbing every bit of paperwork he would need while he was away in New York.
He faced her as he handed her a stack of papers he did not intend to bring with him, “It’s my daughter. I pick her and her friends up from school about half four on Thursdays. You should probably put that in your calendar.”
Nancy stood up straight as she used her dainty hands to brush out the creases on her tight silk blouse. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Of course. But Professor Greene, it’s already past four now.”
He was already walking out the door of his firm’s office as he turned back around to her, “Yes, I know. That’s why you should put it in your calendar. I never remember.”
London’s streets were rainy and cool for a late August day.
Ethan pulled his coat around him, buttoning up the top as he bundled up from the damp.
The walk to the primary school that Daisy attended was merely a few streets away, yet he could not speed any faster past the bustling crowds of tourists and commuters to make it to the metal gates of Parkridge Primary.
As he turned the corner, he let out an exasperated gasp.
The gates were closed and the school’s play ground was practically abandoned.
All that remained was a couple of young children running around on the playground’s equipment as their parents watched from benches in the foreground. He glanced down at his wristwatch, which already read 4:30.
Damn. He had missed pick up time yet again. His only option was to face the judgemental school mistress, Mrs. Lears.
The interior of the primary school was darkened, giving it an almost eerie glow. Children’s paintings hung among the walls, and locker doors were plastered with posters and stickers. Teachers mingled in and out of their classrooms, talking animatedly to one another as they packed up their rooms.
Sitting outside the head teacher’s office was a young girl of about ten years old. Her blonde hair covered her face as she hunched over a large picture book about the United States. Her blue eyes looked up momentarily as she noticed the pair of black leather shoes standing before her.
She sighed theatrically. “Silly Dad. You’re late. Again.” Daisy continued reading to herself, turning the page on a section about New York.
Ethan sat down next to her on the ground, glancing over her shoulder at her book. He whispered in her ear, “So, how much trouble do you think I'm going to be in?”
“Lots. She’s not in a very good mood. I heard that Patrick Durkin brought a frog with him to school today and it got out of his locker and into the hallway. Mrs. Lears and Mr. Sanderson chased it around the entire school all this morning.” She smiled at him excitedly as she told her story.
“Did they find the frog?” Ethan asked, tucking a strand of fair hair behind her ear.
“I’m not sure, but by the way she’s acting, I would guess not.” She used her head to motion towards the headmistresses office. Ethan could hear the woman loudly admonishing her secretary about a phone call.
He put his head in his hands dramatically as he pleaded with his daughter, “Please don’t make me go in there.”
Daisy’s blue eyes sparkled, delighted at her dad’s childish reaction. “Hey, it’s not my fault you're always too late to pick me up.” She nudged his elbow as he pretend to fall over onto the cold tile floor. “Get up, you lazy thing.”
“I’m up, I’m up.” Ethan pushed himself to stand and walked towards the office door.
Brushing off his overcoat, he took a loud deep breath and headed inside. Daisy stood, peering into the window of the office at her father as he approached the headmistress directly.
“Mrs. Lears! It’s so lovely to see you once again. How are you doing on this fine afternoon?” He was overly cheerful, he knew, but it was his best defence.
He understood only too well that he was not one of the headmistress’s favourite parents—by a landslide. This was certainly not his first trip to this office, and it probably wouldn’t be his last.
The stern looking woman in a black knitted suit turned toward her assistant and said loudly, “Ah. It must be Thursday as Mr. Greene is here yet again to see me. What is it today Mr. Greene? Did you lose track of time or did time lose track of you?”
“A little bit of both today, I’m afraid. I had set a reminder, but was knee deep in a paper. I left a little late.” He knew trying to explain his way out of this would do no good.
“So, let me get this right… your daughter comes after your research papers?” She had a point and Ethan recoiled at her harsh tone.
“No, no, not at all. It was just that I, ah… I lost track of time.” Ethan surrendered, admitting defeat. The headmistress handed him a clipboard of papers to sign. He filled in Daisy’s information and his own having practically memorised the sheet back and front. When he was finished, he handed the paper to the secretary and quickly exited the office.
Ethan found his ten-year-old still sitting on the cold floor. She had returned her attention back to her book. He walked past her, motioning with his hands for her to follow quickly. Whispering he urgently said, “Come on buttercup, let’s get out of here before she tries to sign me up for detention!”
8
A little while later, they walked in the door of their Richmond townhouse.
Daisy took a seat on the couch with Ethan joining her. He looked down at her, her young face once again buried in her book and felt a rush of love that always overwhelmed him. “You know what? You never told me what happened with the frog and that boy. Why did he bring the frog in the first place? Did he get into trouble?”
Ethan loved listening to his daughter talk. Her sing-song voice always reminded him of his deceased wife, Jane and her love of good story telling.
Daisy placed her book in her lap and turned toward her father, “Can we not talk about Patrick?”
“Why? What’s wrong with Patrick… well, besides the whole bring a frog to school thing?”
“It’s just that…” She looked down, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. “If I tell you, do you promise not to make fun of me?”
Ethan smiled. His daughter was one of the bravest girls he had ever met. She was bold, witty, and always ready to tell it like it was. This sudden burst of shyness was a total shift in her personality. It was another sign of her mother that he loved to spot.
He took his hand and placed it across his chest dramatically, “Cross my heart, I will not laugh.”
Daisy sighed and said, “Well, yesterday when we were walking home with Mrs. Tulane, I picked a flower and I told Patrick that I liked him, and when I asked if he liked me back, he threw it on the ground and told everyone what I had done.”
Ethan studied her face. She was obviously upset by all of this.
“You know, your mother gave me a flower once,” he told her, and watched her face light up at the mention of her parents’ history. “It was our final year at university. Jane was in my history class, and she followed me home afterwards. It took her a lot of nerve, but she rang my doorbell, handed me a flower, and asked me out.”
Daisy looked at him with wide, wondrous eyes, “She did not!”
“She did. I swear it, and from that mome
nt on, I knew that I would love her forever. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me.”
“Patrick told me that only boys gave girls flowers,” she sulked.
“Daisy, the right boy will love you for picking him a flower. Patrick obviously has no idea what he's missing.”
He rubbed her head gently, messing with her curly locks.
As he stood to start making dinner, Daisy looked up at him and whispered a question, “Did Terri ever give you flowers?”
He was stunned. Daisy hadn’t brought up Terri Blake in conversation for some time now. He had hoped she had gotten over his ex, and the fact that their relationship hadn't worked out, but she was apparently still on her mind.
He replied softly, “No, Terri never gave me flowers. But she did bake me bread, of course.”
Daisy smiled. “I remember that.” She asked the next obvious question. “Will Terri be at Rachel’s wedding?”
“I’m sure she will. Terri and Rachel are best friends after all. Remember that was why Terri wanted to concentrate on the restaurant?” He had used Terri’s commitment to the restaurant as an excuse for why the two had ultimately broken up, but Ethan didn't believe that for a second.
“Why don’t you buy her some flowers?”
“What? Who?”
“Terri. Why don’t you buy her flowers? Girls love that, don’t they?” She stared at Ethan as he looked down at the ground. He wasn’t sure where to go with that, or how to make Daisy understand.
She continued, this time more sure of herself, “Dad, I know that you love Terri, and I really think she loves you too. If she’s going to be in New York, why don’t you try to get her back? I’ll help.”
Ethan still cared about Terri. He really did. And in his heart, he was pretty sure that she cared about him and Daisy too.
But Terri was a pragmatist to the core, and her fears about committing to not only a long-distance relationship, but one with a widower and a young child, had overwhelmed her.
