Red, White and Blue Weddings: Red Like Crimson, White as Snow, Out of the Blue

by Janice Thompson

  No, James Campbell had left nothing for his wife to deal with after the fact—nothing other than mourning the only man she’d ever loved.

  Brandon glanced back up at the television and sighed. He hoped today’s surgery would in no way be reminiscent of all that. He shook off the memories and turned toward Brianna. She seemed to be holding up pretty well, all things considered. Her tears still flowed intermittently, but who could blame her? She was her grandmother’s caregiver, after all, and her love for Abbey was. . .what was that expression Abbey always used? Ah, yes. Sure and certain. Brianna’s love for Abbey was sure and certain.

  Brandon gave Brianna a closer look. Her beauty had been apparent from the get-go, but seeing her here, in this situation—seeing the compassion in her eyes and the concern etched across her brow—made her all the more appealing. This was a girl you could take home to Mama.

  Whoa. Slow down. What are you thinking? You just met her.

  “Brandon?” Brianna interrupted his thoughts as she stood. “I’m going to the gift shop for a few minutes.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  When she nodded, he followed on her heels down the corridor in search of the gift shop. They wound their way through a maze of hallways, observing the signs, until they arrived at the tiny, crammed shop.

  Brianna at once began to search for a gift. Her brow wrinkled in concern after just a couple of minutes. “What should I get for her?”

  “What does she like?”

  Brianna rolled her eyes. “Trust me—they won’t have what she really likes in here.”

  Brandon wondered at that but didn’t ask. “Maybe flowers?” he tried. When Brianna shrugged, he suggested something else. “Candy?”

  “I don’t know if the doctor will have her on a special diet or not,” Brianna said with a sigh.

  “Hmm. I see your point.” He looked around the room, and his gaze finally came to rest on a bouquet of Mylar balloons. “Hey, what about those?”

  As Brianna looked up, a smile lit her face. “Yeah. That’s perfect.” She made her way to the counter where she ordered a half dozen Get Well and You Are Loved balloons in a variety of colors and shapes.

  As the clerk filled the balloons and then rang up her total, Brandon found himself distracted by the greeting cards. One in particular caught his eye. It was funny—witty, really—just like Abbey. It even had a dog on front. He carried it to the cash register and paid for it with a grin. “I think she’ll like this.”

  As they left the shop he handed the card to Brianna. As their hands touched, her cheeks flushed, and he grinned. Something about the touch of her hand, even for a moment, felt good. Felt right.

  And completely odd. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before.

  Brianna took the card and read it, giving him a funny look as she spied the dog, then laughed aloud. She handed it back to him with an admiring gaze. “You really do know her well, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I feel like I do. In so many ways she reminds me of my mother. Older, of course. But my mom’s no spring chicken. I’m the youngest of four kids, and my siblings are considerably older than I am. I was born when my mom was forty-two.”

  “You were a surprise package?” “What?” Brianna smiled. “That’s what my mom always called my younger brother—her little surprise package. He came along years after I did.”

  Brandon nodded. “I guess that about sums it up.” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “My parents were ten— maybe even fifteen—years older than my friends’ parents, but they were young-acting.” He smiled. “My mom is still young at heart. She has a terrific sense of humor, just like Abbey. Even cooks like her.”

  “Does she live in Pittsburgh?”

  “Nope. But I’m working on that. She lives in Florida, but I’m hoping she’ll move here before long. My older siblings aren’t great at taking care of her. She really depends on me. It’s always been like that.”

  Brianna flashed him a smile. “Did you say you’re from Florida?” When he nodded, she delved into a lengthy ex- planation of how much she missed the beach. “I’m from L.A.,” she added.

  “Yes, I know—” “Abbey told you,” she finished for him.

  When he nodded, Brianna laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have to say my grandmother has been up to some tricks.”

  “Oh?” He didn’t dare reveal any of the things Abbey had shared with him in the emergency room. Instead he glanced over at Brianna to gauge her expression. As he did he noted a hint of a smile on her face. It warmed his heart.

  In fact, everything about this girl warmed his heart.

  ❧

  Brianna fought the grogginess that seemed to consume her as the hours ticked by in the waiting room. Many times she glanced over at Brandon, wondering how long he planned to stay. He’d come in his own car, after all, and could go whenever he liked.

  Still, he seemed satisfied to sit next to her, staring at the muted television and occasionally striking up a conversation.

  She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. Surely Brandon Campbell had something better to do on a Saturday night than sit around a dreary hospital, waiting for news about a woman he barely knew. But he looked content. Strange.

  Why had she disliked him so much? Ah, yes. Because of Gran-Gran.

  She grinned as she replayed the conversation she’d over- heard between her grandmother and Brandon earlier in the day. Funny, how one little thing could change her mind so completely.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “W–what?” Brianna looked up into Brandon’s laughing green eyes. Who has eyes that gorgeous? She was embarrassed at having been caught so deep in her thoughts, particularly when most of those thoughts concerned him. “Oh, I—”

  “You’re smiling,” he said.

  “Oh? Well. . .I was. . .thinking of Gran-Gran.” It wasn’t a lie. She had been thinking of her, hadn’t she? And Brandon, too, of course, though she wouldn’t mention that part.

  “I can see why you’re smiling,” Brandon said with a nod. “I’m glad you’re feeling better about her surgery. I’m sure she’s going to come through this with flying colors.”

  Brianna nodded. “I know you’re right. She’s tough as nails most of the time, so it’ll be interesting to see how she fares under stress. I’d imagine she’ll be a lot of fun to care for. She should be fine, at least on Monday nights.”

  “Monday nights?” He gave her a curious look.

  “Yes, she’s quite a football nut. Turn on the game and she’s as happy as a lark.”

  “Oh, really.” His eyes lit up, and for a moment she half expected him to jump into an animated play-by-play of last week’s game, like almost every other guy she knew. Instead he offered a weak shrug and turned back to the television.

  Maybe there was hope for this guy.

  Seconds later Dr. Peters entered the room. He looked exhausted but was smiling. “She came through fine,” he said. “She’s in the recovery room now. We’ll be moving her to a private room when she wakes up.”

  “She—she’s going to be okay?” Brianna asked.

  The doctor gave her a confident nod. “I have every reason to think she’ll do just fine. She’s a feisty one, for sure, but that will work to her advantage. She seems to have an indomitable spirit.”

  “Yes, she does,” Brianna agreed.

  After a few words of instruction from the doctor, they were escorted to the recovery room, where they found Abbey waking up. She seemed frightened and disoriented. Brianna did her best to soothe and comfort her grandmother, but it took a good hour before she seemed to come around.

  A short time later Brianna and Brandon followed along behind the rolling bed as they made their way into a tiny private room at the east end of the hospital. The nurse came to check Gran-Gran’s vital signs, then gave her some medication for pain. Within minutes she dozed off into a fitful sleep. Brianna kissed her on the forehead and settled into a nearby ch
air.

  “Aren’t you going home?” Brandon whispered.

  She looked up, confused. “Home?”

  “You’re not going to stay here all night, are you?”

  “Well, yes. That’s my plan anyway.”

  He shook his head. “You need your rest if you’re going to take care of her.”

  Brianna shrugged. “I’ll sleep here in the chair.”

  “This is just my opinion,” Brandon pointed out, “but I think you’ll do a better job of caring for your grandmother if you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

  “He’s right, you know,” Gran-Gran mumbled in a groggy voice.

  Brianna groaned and gave Brandon an accusing look. “You’re saying I should go home? Leave her here?”

  “Nurses are on call around the clock,” Brandon said. “She’ll be well taken care of. But if it will make you feel better, you can talk to the head nurse and ask her to call you if there’s a problem.”

  A yawn escaped Brianna’s lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe a good night’s sleep was in order. Tomorrow was Sunday. She could come back in the morning and stay all day.

  “Go home, Bree,” Gran-Gran whispered through her medicated fog. “I need my rest. . .and I won’t sleep a wink. . . if I know you’re sitting over there worrying.”

  “Fine.” Brianna stood up and reached for her jacket. “I’m going home, then.”

  “Let me drive you,” Brandon offered.

  “Oh, I have my car.”

  “Leave it. I’ll take you home, then follow you back up here in the morning.” Her eyes widened, and he added, “I won’t be able to stay long tomorrow, but I want to come for a while before heading off to. . .work.”

  He works on Sunday? What does he do?

  “You’re a good boy,” Gran-Gran muttered in a slurred voice.

  Brianna giggled. “I think she’s got something there.” She looked at Brandon with growing admiration. “And I think I’ll take you up on your offer. I’m too tired to drive right now anyway.”

  “All right then.”

  He leaned over to brush a soft kiss across Gran-Gran’s cheek, and she whispered, “You two go on now. Leave me be,” in a hoarse voice.

  As they walked through the door, Brianna, with tears in her eyes, looked back at her grandmother. She whispered a silent prayer that Gran-Gran would make it through the night without pain, then she stopped at the nurse’s station to leave her phone number.

  Then she followed on Brandon’s heels toward the parking garage.

  NINE

  The next morning Brandon awoke with a smile on his face. Might’ve had something to do with the fact that he’d dreamed about Brianna. In his dream she’d been sitting on the sidelines at the game while he scored a touchdown. The electric lights celebrated his victory, and the roar from the crowd made him feel welcome. Brianna had rushed to his side at the end of the game, slipping easily into his arms. Her kiss had caused more excitement than the touchdown.

  Yep. Definitely a dream. But what a nice one.

  Brandon lingered in bed for a few minutes, praying. He lifted up his mother’s name as always. Next he covered his siblings, though praying for his older brother still proved to be a challenge, all things considered. Afterward he prayed for Abbey—for her healing and for her psychological state.

  Finally he turned to Brianna.

  Hmm. He tried to stay focused on the prayer time but found himself slightly distracted as he remembered the look of pain in her eyes last night at the hospital. How wonderful it had felt to wrap her in his arms, to offer comfort. Something in him wanted to protect her, to kiss away every tear, to tell her everything would be all right.

  Best to get back to praying.

  He took a few minutes to pray about today’s press conference, adding a special request: “Please let Burroughs forgive me for what happened yesterday.” If everyone came into today’s events with a good attitude, the media would surely pick up on that. Being the new kid in town, he wanted to put his best foot forward.

  A short time later Brandon climbed out of bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen, where he switched on the coffee-maker. Wouldn’t take long for the pot to fill. In the meantime he needed a shower and a shave. As he did that, he laid out a plan of action for the day. What was it Burroughs had said? Ah, yes. “I’ll send a car for you at 1:00.”

  Brandon would be waiting at the house. Of course, that meant his visit with Abbey would have to be brief.

  He chuckled, thinking of his elderly neighbor. Even heavily medicated, her matchmaking skills were still intact. “You two go on now.” Was that what she had said? Surely she’d meant, “You two spend a little more time together. It’ll do my heart good.”

  Not that he minded. No, he’d be happy to spend as much time as possible with Brianna. She did his heart good.

  Brandon headed off to the kitchen, where he popped a slice of bread into the toaster and poured a cup of coffee. As he settled down at the table, he tried to envision Brianna next door, doing the same. For whatever reason he started to chuckle, thinking about the fact that she’d accused him of having a dog—a noisy one, at that. Maybe he should set the record straight today—tell her the dog was nonexistent and the stereo had only been used at Abbey’s insistence.

  On the other hand, if he shared that little tidbit, she would know Abbey had made up the stories in the first place. From there she would likely guess her grandmother had ulterior motives. Nope, I won’t tell her today. He didn’t want to create a stir, especially not with Abbey in such a fragile state.

  Brandon glanced down at his watch and realized he’d daydreamed away nearly twenty minutes. He’d promised to meet Brianna at her place at 9:00. Better get on the ball.

  ❧

  As soon as Brianna heard the knock on the door, her heart leaped into her throat. Brandon. She glanced in the mirror, checking her makeup one last time. Not too bad. The eye shadow on her left eye was a bit heavier than the right, but who would really notice?

  She paused to grab a sweater from the closet, then sprinted down the stairs to the door. She answered in a somewhat breathless state. “Good morning.” Brianna ushered him inside. “Are you hungry?”

  “Well, I, uh. . .” He gave her a puzzled look. “Do we have time?”

  “Gran-Gran spent much of yesterday morning baking, so the kitchen is filled with breakfast goodies needing to be eaten. And, besides, we always do a big breakfast on Sunday mornings. It’s tradition. So follow me.”

  She led him down the hallway, chatting all the way. When she didn’t hear a response she turned back, stunned to find him still standing in the living room, gazing at her grandmother’s spoon collection. She took a few steps back in his direction. He looked around the room, eyes wide.

  “I don’t believe it,” he said.

  “Believe what?”

  “Well, for one thing, this spoon collection. My mom has one just like it. And the knickknacks. It’s just like—like home.”

  “Ah. Well, it is home.” She flashed him a warm smile.

  “Yes, but how odd that I’d come all the way from Florida to Pittsburgh only to feel so completely at home again.” He shrugged. “You know, I’m convinced my mom and Abbey would be good friends. They’d keep each other busy; that’s for sure. My mom takes all sorts of classes to stay active.”

  “Internet courses?”

  “Yes, and others, too. Like water aerobics. Arts and crafts. That kind of thing.” He chuckled. “She’s a real go-getter. And her taste in decorating is pretty much the same, too.” He gestured to the sofa. “Let me guess. Abbey has had that couch since the ’80s, right?”

  “Seventy-nine, according to Gran-Gran,” Brianna said with a nod. “And the recliner has been here longer than that. My grandpa used to sit in it every day after work.” She grew silent as she thought about it. How long had it been since she’d mentioned her grandfather? He’d died years before she moved to Pittsburgh, leaving Abbey alone—and Brianna with a host of questions
about what he must’ve been like. She’d barely known him, though her grandmother had tried to tell her a little.

  She shook off the memory and invited Brandon again to join her in the kitchen. There she served up a steaming mug of coffee with French vanilla creamer and sugar. He eyed the large coffee cake in the center of the dinette table. “You weren’t kidding. This looks great.”

  “You should see the cinnamon rolls.” She opened the microwave and pulled out a plate of the warm, gooey rolls, covered in frosting.

  “How do you eat like this all the time and stay so—?” He didn’t finish his sentence. His cheeks reddened and he muttered, “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She shrugged. “My job is really active. I’m on my feet much of the time. And I take a lot of walks with my grandmother when the weather cooperates. In other words, I burn off all the calories.” She smiled. “I’m always telling Gran-Gran to cut back on the shortening and sugar, but the more I tell her, the more she bakes. It’s useless.”

  “Do you cook?”

  Brianna shrugged. “I try, but there’s no comparison. Gran-Gran got all of the cooking skills in the family. It’s kind of a—a gift.”

  His eyebrows elevated playfully. “One we all get to share.”

  “Yep.” As they settled down at the table to enjoy a quick bite to eat, Brianna looked into his eyes—eyes filled with goodness and compassion. How had she missed that the first time around?

  “Tell me about your life in L.A.,” he coaxed.

  “Ah.” She drew in a deep breath, wondering where to begin. “My mom is great. She and I have always been close ever since I was little. And my younger brother is a hoot. I think you’d like him. He’s a lot younger than I am, so we didn’t have a lot in common.”

  “What about your dad?”