For the first time in my life, I could see magic.
I couldn’t focus enough to string a sentence together. Luckily, I didn’t have to deal with Tiger any more. He was fast asleep in his chair. Bente gallantly took the cigar from his fingers and stubbed it out.
We didn’t say anything until we were at the bottom of the stairs. “What happens now?” she asked.
I shook my head, frowning. “I’m not entirely sure, but I know one thing: I’ve got to find a way of giving baby Bardot her wings back.”
70. GOOD ENOUGH
Bente
I’d known Ryan for a long time, but there were certain quirks that I’d only recently begun to notice. I was sure they weren’t new – I was just seeing him through different eyes these days. One habit was the way he shut down when he had a lot on his mind. He could go a full hour without speaking when his brain was busy. His brain was definitely busy that night, and I got the impression it was all magic related.
The silence didn’t bother me. Conversation wasn’t high on my agenda. Distracted or not, he was mine for the rest of the night.
***
Weird sleeping patterns were one of my quirks. Wide awake, I untangled myself from Ryan’s arms a little after two in the morning and crept to the living room. I had a mountain of notes from my sessions with Tiger that I could’ve worked on but I wasn’t up to writing. I checked my emails instead, and immediately wished I’d stayed in bed.
There was one from my mother. Before I opened it I knew it was bad news, and reading it just confirmed it. My parents had decided to give my wedding a miss in favour of an extended Caribbean cruise.
We got a great deal. I know you understand, Benny. Good luck with the wedding.
My mom’s nickname for me had always vexed me. Not only did she curse me with a stupid name that no one could pronounce, she went on to shorten it to the ridiculous moniker of Benny.
I could count on one hand the number of days I’d spent with my parents in the last five years. Ivy and I were pretty good at pretending not to take it personally. The truth was a little sadder. They were selfish and always had been. Their decision to blow off my wedding confirmed it.
I hated that it upset me so much. I hated it even more when Ryan stumbled into the room just as angry tears took over.
It wasn’t the first time he’d woken and found me sobbing. If he’d made a bolt for the door to escape the craziness I wouldn’t have blamed him.
“I’m not upset,” I sniffled, dropping my head in a stupid attempt to hide. “And I’m definitely not crying.”
Probably at a complete loss, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long sip before even acknowledging me. “Are you sure you’re not crying?” he finally enquired. “Because if you are, I can handle it. I’ve got this moral support thing in the bag now.”
I lifted my head to look at him. Ryan stood half naked, leaning against the kitchen counter. Obviously he had being insanely handsome in the bag too.
I dried my eyes with the cuff of my sleeves and focused on breathing. “Definitely not crying,” I assured him.
Ryan leaned forward. I stretched to meet him half way and was rewarded with the most perfect of kisses. “Why are you not crying?” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.
I explained the email from my parents with the lack of detail it deserved.
“They’re really not coming?”
I straightened up and shook my head. “Do you think Adam will give me away? I don’t want to walk that huge aisle by myself.” Fiona’s choice of marriage venue was every bit as grand as the rest of her plans, and it wasn’t the intimate setting I was hoping for. A jumbo jet could safely land on the mile long carpeted aisle.
Ryan moved to my side of the counter and pulled me to my feet. “He’s best man,” he reminded me.
I melted against him, resting my cheek on his warm chest. “This wedding is shaping up to be a nightmare.”
“Don’t say that,” he soothed, stroking my hair. “What about Dad? Would you be okay with him walking you down the aisle?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Good enough.”
Those two words summed it up perfectly. Everything to do with the wedding was just good enough. We were merely performers in a huge production orchestrated by Ivy and Fiona. And I sucked at acting.
71. NAKED AND SINGING
Ryan
Stealing her mother’s number from Bente’s phone didn’t seem like such a major crime considering my intentions were good. I planned to call her on the sly while Bente was in the shower, but hesitated because my little songbird picked that morning of all mornings to break into song.
Naked and singing was a stellar combination, but I knew I’d only get to enjoy one or the other: if I walked in on her she’d stop singing. I sat on the edge of the bed and listened instead. I got Bente naked all the time. The sultry, mind-scrambling singing was a rare treat. I wasn’t sure that I had the right to feel as proud of her as I did. I contributed nothing to her brilliance. But I could feel proud that she was mine, and I was still pinching myself that I was lucky enough to be able to keep her forever.
After a few minutes of eavesdropping, I tore myself away and dialled her mother’s number.
Evie Denison sounded a lot like Ivy, and instantly grated on me because of it. In fairness, she’d got my back up before uttering a single word. Anyone who was prepared to bail on their daughter’s wedding wasn’t worthy of polite chitchat, but I remembered my manners and introduced myself.
Evie seemed happy to hear from me until I asked her to reconsider their decision to stay abroad.
Negotiations went nowhere fast. Nothing I tried tempted her – not even the offer of first class plane travel. “Just come for the weekend,” I urged. “You can be back on board the ship by Monday morning.”
“No, I don’t think so.” She didn’t even sound regretful. “It’s sweet of you to offer though, Ryan.”
As hard as it was to hold my tongue, I pressed on, using everything I could think of to talk her round. When I resorted to offering to pay for their next cruise, I realised that the woman just wasn’t worth the effort. If she’d taken me up on it, I probably would’ve reneged.
I admitted defeat and called it quits. “Your daughter is the most amazing woman I have ever known, Mrs Denison,” I declared. “And I want to thank you for that.”
“My pleasure, young man.” She replied as if she’d done me some great service. “I’m glad she’s met a nice boy.”
What did she know? I could’ve been an axe murderer or a bank robber. In-laws were supposed to be hard to win over. My brother was nearly drowned by his father-in-law, and I know for a fact he was threatened with bodily harm more than once. I almost felt ripped off. I wasn’t getting even a hint of intimidation or threats. The woman was practically palming her daughter off to me like an unwanted gift. As angry as I felt, I didn’t let it show. I wished her well and ended the call while I still had my manners in check.
I set my phone down, staring at the black screen while I plotted my next move. There wasn’t one. I’d given Evie Denison ten minutes of my time, which was ten too many. I wasn’t interested in ever doing it again.
***
I had never voluntarily visited Ivy’s house before, and the second she came to the door I remembered why. “What do you want, Ryan?” she barked through the screen. “I’m busy.”
“It’s not a social visit,” I shot back. “I’m busy too.”
She pushed the screen door open and stepped aside to let me in. I was immediately struck by how quiet it was when the girls weren’t home. The hours that they spent at school must’ve been a godsend to her, although the peace hadn’t lifted Ivy’s mood much. She looked downright miserable.
“I’m making coffee,” she told me. “You want one?”
“Yeah.” I spoke as glumly as she looked. “That’d be great.” I followed her through the glitzy little front room into the kitchen.
It w
as impossible not to notice the stack of papers spread out across the dining table when I walked in, and clearly I wasn’t supposed to. Ivy scooped them up, shoved them in a drawer and ordered me to sit. Nothing was said in the time it took her to brew coffee, and it seemed to take forever. I swear I heard every single drip filter through to the jug. But the result was worth it: Ivy’s coffee was as good as I’d ever had.
“Why are you here?” she asked finally, setting a mug in front of me.
She wasn’t one for small talk so I didn’t try. “I need your help with something.”
“Something for Bente?”
I shook my head. “No, for Bridget.”
“I’m listening.”
It took longer to explain than I expected, which led me to think my plan for redeeming myself with my niece was half-baked at best. Ivy didn’t look impressed, but at least she had the good manners to hear me out. “I’ve got it all worked out,” I explained almost truthfully. “I just need you to make me some wings.”
“How big and what colour?”
How did I know? “You’re the designer. You decide. Just make them pretty and girly and junk.”
“They’ll need to be lightweight,” she mused.
“Whatever you think is right.”
Ivy looked at me through narrowed eyes. “You’re a decent guy, Ryan.” I nearly keeled over in shock at the rare compliment. “Bente deserves someone decent.”
“I love her, Ivy. Make no mistake about it.”
“I know you do.”
“I’m glad.”
“I don’t like you,” she added making me laugh. “But I respect you.”
I had to concede that I felt a certain level of respect for her too. She’d done her best to hold my feet to the fire. Ivy was the in-law I’d had to work hard to win over.
It seemed like an appropriate time to let her know that her parents had bailed on the wedding. I was fairly sure that Bente wouldn’t have rushed to tell her the news. Ivy sat motionless as I told her. She didn’t seem surprised at all. “I knew it,” she stated calmly. “They’re hopeless.”
It occurred to me that I really didn’t know much about the dynamics of the Denison family. It was a now or never moment. I used it well, got brave and asked.
“They’ve never been around,” Ivy revealed. She told me that her parents had received a windfall by way of an inheritance from a distant aunt. “Bente was only sixteen. They signed the house over to us and took off travelling. We see them once a year if we’re lucky.”
Ivy was six years older than Bente. It had been left to her to look after her while their parents gallivanted around the world on their endless cruises. It was no wonder Ivy mothered her sister so much – she’d been picking up Evie’s slack for years.
“We weren’t exactly kids, but Bente was nowhere near cooked.” The image made me smile. “I did the best I could. She turned out alright.”
“Better than alright,” I corrected. “She’s perfect. I told your mom that too. I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d known the truth.”
Ivy stared at her mug of coffee. “They’re not bad people, Ryan,” she said slowly. “They’re just not cut out to be parents. They honestly don’t see that they did anything wrong.”
I suspected Ivy took a lot on board by herself, and probably always had done. Raising two squealers, running a household and trying to keep her sister on track was bound to get on top of her at times. I probably should’ve been more forgiving of her pissy moods. It was a state of mind that she was entitled to. I also should’ve been making more of an effort to get to know her. As frightening as it was, we’d soon be family. I didn’t even know what Ivy did for a living.
“I make pageant dresses, Ryan,” she replied. “Some sell for a lot of money.”
There was no denying that the woman was talented. It seemed only fair to tell her so.
“Thanks,” she muttered, bringing her coffee to her lips. “Unfortunately it’s not steady work. Sometimes it’s hard to make bills on time.”
I pointed to the drawer that she’d stuffed full of papers. “How much do you owe?”
“None of your business.”
“I could help you out, Ivy,”
She slammed her mug down, making the table wobble. “I’m not a charity case.”
I leaned forward, speaking slowly and strongly. “I’m not offering you charity. I’m offering to pay you for the wings you’re going to make for my niece.”
After deliberating for a long moment, Ivy grabbed the papers out of the drawer. While she looked them over, I used the time to check my emails on my phone. I’d deleted all the wedding-related emails from my mother by the time she’d tidied them into a neat stack.
I retired my phone to my pocket. “Just give me a number.”
“Eighteen hundred,” she replied weakly.
I extended my hand across the table. “Deal. Eighteen hundred for spectacular fairy wings sounds more than fair.”
Ivy reluctantly shook my hand. “Thank you, Ryan.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. I didn’t know she was capable of such a soft tone.
I walked my mug to the sink and told her I needed to get back to the office. “Just give me a call as soon as the wings are ready.”
Ivy called me back as I got to the doorway. “Please don’t tell Bente about the money situation,” she pleaded. “I don’t want her to worry.”
“What money situation, Ivy?” I winked at her – another first. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
72. BABY BARDOT
Bente
Two days before the wedding, Ryan dragged me down to the club to show me what he’d set up in a bid to woo Bridget back to the land of La La. I complained the whole way, but was secretly thrilled to escape the wedding talk going on in our apartment.
“We don’t have time for this, Ryan.”
“Yes, we do,” he insisted. “Besides, would you rather be out with me, or at home with Mom and Ivy drinking tea and discussing last-minute changes to the seating plan?”
“I’d rather be anywhere than there.”
“Stop whining then,” he suggested, “or I’ll take you back and tell them what you really think of their champagne fountain.”
“You wouldn’t!”
His laugh was positively sinister. “No,” he agreed. “I’m not that heartless.”
“You’re not heartless at all, Ryan.”
His brown eyes locked on mine and he smiled coyly. “You don’t think so?”
I closed the gap between us. “Your heart has always been there,” I whispered, laying my palm on his chest. “You just weren’t sure how to use it.”
“I’ve had an excellent teacher,” he murmured.
I wasn’t going to take any credit. Ryan’s journey from douche bag to husband material started long before I arrived. The little girl with the missing wings had been the first to show him the error of his ways. I just got to reap the benefits.
***
Like his mother, Ryan Décarie does not do things by half measures. I had no idea what he was planning, but if he needed to carry it out at the club it was going to be a big deal. His mood led me to think it probably involved circus performers or fireworks or both.
The place was eerily quiet when we got there. I was used to the noise of power tools and hammering, but today there were no workmen on site.
There weren’t any circus performers either. In fact, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The only change I picked up on was that the ceiling in the main room now looked pristine. I craned my neck to look. It was now bright white, and the intricate pattern of the flowers stood out brilliantly.
“Bridget’s going to flip when she sees this,” I told him.
“Yeah, maybe,” he replied, uninterested. “That’s not what I want to show her, though.” He pulled me toward the stage area. “Look up there.” He pointed at the overhead lights and stage rigging. “I’ve had a guy working on it all morning.”
Worki
ng on what? All I could see was framework and cabling.
He didn’t get a chance to explain. Adam, Charli and Bridget came through the big doors.
“Wow, this is gorgeous,” commented Charli, taking everything in as she crossed the room. They hadn’t been given details of his grand plan either, and probably assumed they were there to check out the progress of the renovations.
“It will be,” replied Adam. He looked up. “Ceiling looks good.”
“Yeah,” agreed Ryan, still uninterested.
Bridget ran the last few feet as she approached Ryan, launching herself at him at the last second. It was a good sign that she was on the way to being her usual bubbly self.
“I have something to show you,” he said, deftly catching her.
“Really?” She pressed her hands to his cheeks, making sure his focus remained on her. “A surprise?”
Ryan twisted to see Charli. “You were right,” he quietly told her.
She frowned at him. “I’m always right.”
“I’m sorry I stole from you,” he said vaguely. “I’m going to give everything back to you today.”
Charli nodded and I could tell by the look on her face that she knew exactly what he was referring to. Clearly I wasn’t the only one out of the loop. Adam looked as confused as I was.
Ryan set Bridget down on the stage. Like a little wind-up toy itching to get going, she set off running in circles the second her boots hit the floor.
“I love it up here,” she told him. “Really love it.”
I moved to stand beside Charli, who was hanging on Adam’s arm as if she was expecting something terrible to happen. I had no clue what to expect, but prayed for Ryan’s sake that everything went according to plan.
Ryan disappeared behind the curtain at the back of the stage, reappearing a few seconds later with a pair of the prettiest fairy wings I’d ever seen. They had to be Ivy’s handiwork. They were sparkly, detailed and perfect. Bridget squealed at the sight of them, so shrilly that we all winced. “I just love them, Ry!”
Secret North: Book 4 of The Wishes Series Page 31
