Daughters of the Bride

by Susan Mallery

  She nodded and drew back. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. “What if you’re busy having sex with some hot singer?”

  “I won’t be. I gave up singers a long time ago. Now I’m into college-going maids who look hot in khakis.”

  “That’s a very limited subset.”

  “I’m a particular kind of guy.”

  She sucked in a breath. “They’re all mad at me. No, not mad. Mad I could deal with. But they’re hurt. I don’t know how I feel about my mom, but I feel awful about Rachel. She and I have always been close.”

  “Did you talk to her?”

  “I’ve left a couple of messages and texted her. She hasn’t answered.” She sniffed. “You want to know the weird part?”

  He nodded.

  “Sienna’s the only one who gets it. She thought it was great and said she was proud of me. Who would have thought that would happen?”

  “Family dynamics are always interesting.”

  “There’s one word for it.” She looked at him. “Just so you know, I’m really mad at Joyce.”

  “Good. I am, too.”

  “But she’s your grandmother and you’re not really involved.”

  “She upset you. That makes me involved.”

  “I honestly don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Tell me what time you get off work. I’ll take you to dinner, then bring you back here and help you forget about your troubles.”

  She managed a slight smile. “With a rousing game of Scrabble?”

  “You read my mind.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.”

  He hugged her back. “Anytime.”

  “I have to get to work.”

  “I know. I’ll see you soon.”

  As Courtney started down the stairs, Quinn thought about all that had happened. Joyce meddling wasn’t news, although this time the consequences would be bigger than usual.

  But the problem his grandmother had created wasn’t what captured his attention. Instead, it was how he’d felt when he’d found out. And how he’d reacted. He’d wanted to protect Courtney. He’d wanted to be there for her.

  Somehow she’d gotten under his skin. He supposed some of it was the juxtaposition of her lack of confidence and her complete bravery. Some of it was just her.

  He’d moved back to Los Lobos to be closer to his grandmother, to get away from LA and to figure out what was next for him. Courtney was an unexpected gift. Now he had to figure out what he was going to do about her, his job, hell, his life, and if there was any possibility of finding his way to what the rest of the world considered normal.

  * * *

  “You shock me,” Lena admitted as she pulled her car into the parking lot. “In a good way.”

  Rachel unfastened her seat belt. “I appreciate the invitation. You’re right—it’s time for me to get out a little.”

  When her friend had phoned to suggest they go out to a bar for the evening, Rachel had found herself wanting to accept the invitation. Josh was celebrating the end of school with a sleepover at a friend’s house for the night. She’d thought she might hear from Greg, but she hadn’t. She was still trying to work through what had happened at the tasting dinner two nights before. Going out with Lena had seemed like the perfect distraction.

  They got out of the car. “Did I tell you that you look great?” her friend asked. “You do.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel self-consciously smoothed the front of her dress. Her reduced calorie diet and morning walks were paying off. She’d lost ten pounds and was back in a dress she hadn’t worn in maybe three years. Despite her long day at work, she felt good. She’d taken extra time with her hair and makeup. Not that she was interested in impressing anyone. Instead, she’d done it for herself.

  Lena paused outside the entrance. “We need a game plan.”

  Rachel laughed. “We’re going to go inside, have a couple of drinks, and then we’re going home.”

  “What if you see a good-looking guy?”

  “We’ll giggle about it.”

  Lena groaned. “What if he asks if he can buy you a drink?”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “What if it does?”

  She knew what her friend was trying to say. That it was time for Rachel to get back out there. She’d been divorced for nearly two years. She wasn’t that old, so finding someone to spend the rest of her life with made sense. There was only one problem—she wasn’t over Greg.

  “I’ll thank him and say no.”

  “I knew you were going to say that.”

  “Hey, at least I got dressed up and came out with you. Baby steps.”

  “You’re right. I’ll take what I can get.”

  She pulled open the door. Harry’s Bar was located down by the pier. The clientele was a pretty even mix of locals and tourists. For Los Lobos, it was considered fairly upscale—with nice finishes and decent lighting. In addition to the usual drink selection, there was also a menu of light bites and a flatbread of the day.

  They took a table by the windows. Rachel scanned the cocktail menu, then passed it to her friend.

  “What looks good?” Lena asked.

  “I’m going to try the blueberry mojito.”

  “Wild woman.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Rachel looked out at the hundred-plus-year-old pier where families and couples were enjoying the warm late-June evening. The beginning of tourist season. The town’s population would swell, and businesses would be busy for everyone. Especially at the hotel.

  Thinking about the hotel made her think of Courtney.

  “Uh-oh,” Lena said. “What?”

  “I still can’t wrap my mind around Courtney. About getting her GED and going to college. She and I talk nearly every day. We hang out. We’ve always been close. What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Lena admitted. “I can’t imagine keeping something like that from my family or you. Have you talked to her?”

  Rachel shook her head. “She’s left me some messages and a few texts. At some point I’ll have to answer. I honestly don’t know what to say to her.”

  “I get you’re upset. I would be, too. But don’t stay mad too long. You two have a great relationship. I’d hate to see you lose that.”

  The server came by to take their drink orders. Rachel used the interruption to change the subject.

  “How are the vacation plans coming?”

  Lena and her family were planning a four-week road trip. It was Rachel’s idea of hell, but she understood that some people enjoyed hours and hours together in the car.

  “There are maps everywhere in our house,” Lena said with a laugh. “Right now the discussion is about how long to spend with Toby’s parents. I love my in-laws, but anything more than three nights is too much.”

  Lena spoke for a few more minutes, then excused herself to use the restroom. Rachel sat alone at the table and realized she wasn’t sure she’d ever been in a bar by herself. She’d married so young. By the time she turned twenty-one, she was a mother. Going to bars didn’t fit in with her lifestyle.

  She felt her purse buzz and pulled out her cell phone. She had a text from Greg.

  What are you up to tonight?

  She studied the message. If only he’d asked a few hours ago. As it was...

  I’m out with Lena. At Harry’s Bar.

  Want company?

  She smiled. Lena had encouraged her to make contact with a handsome man. Greg certainly counted as good-looking, even if he violated the spirit of what her friend had meant.

  Sure.

  By the time she and Lena were halfway through their drinks and laughing about potential road trip disasters, the hairs on the back of her neck be
gan to prickle.

  “What?” Lena asked, then glanced toward the door. “You didn’t.”

  “He texted me first,” she said, knowing she sounded like a defensive teenager. “And you did tell me to talk to a man.”

  “I didn’t. I asked what you would do if one wanted to buy you a drink. You’re impossible. You know that, right?” Lena stood and hugged Greg. “You two make me crazy.”

  “Nice to see you, too,” he said, kissing her cheek. He pulled out an empty chair. “What are you two ladies having?” He looked at Lena’s strawberry daiquiri and her mojito, then grimaced. “Never mind.”

  “A beer,” he told a passing waitress.

  “You’re such a guy,” Rachel told him.

  “I am what I am. So, who are we talking about?”

  “What makes you think there’s a who?” Lena asked.

  “Because there always is.”

  Rachel was content to listen to the two of them chatting. She liked that her husband and best friend got along. They always had, just like she’d always liked Toby. The four of them had done a lot together. Their boys were friends. It had worked, until the divorce.

  Funny how the feelings from Greg’s and Courtney’s secrets were so similar. A sense of betrayal, enough hurt that she didn’t have room inside to hold it all. The sense that everything was just plain wrong. The emotions had been stronger two years ago, but these new ones still hurt.

  The three of them talked for a while. The server returned to ask about a second round. Lena shook her head.

  “I’m done. You two go ahead.”

  “What do you mean?” Rachel asked. “We’re hanging out.”

  Lena raised her eyebrows. “Being with you two makes me want to go home and hang with Toby.” She held up a hand. “Don’t take that wrong. Greg will drive you home.”

  “Yes, I will,” he said easily.

  Rachel stood and hugged her friend. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Of course. Have fun.”

  “That was strange,” Rachel said after Lena left. “I don’t know why she left.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Before she could answer, the server returned. “Have you decided if you want another round?”

  “I’m game if you are,” Greg told her.

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll have another.”

  “Great. Be right back.”

  Greg leaned close. “So what’s going on? You have something on your mind. What is it?”

  He’d always been able to read her, she thought. “It’s Courtney.” She told him about her sister and what she’d been doing.

  “I don’t get it,” she admitted. “How could she not have told me?”

  Greg shifted his chair closer and stared into her eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Her keeping secrets? I know that.”

  “No. That she had trouble learning to read. That she got held back. That wasn’t you.”

  Rachel slumped in her seat. “I know.”

  “I’m not sure you do. You were a kid when your dad died. You did the best you could to hold everything together. You helped your mom. But you weren’t the adult. Courtney was born the way she was born. You didn’t make a learning disability happen. You weren’t responsible for her being held back.”

  She nodded but was unable to completely believe him. “I was so hurt when I found out what she’d been doing,” she admitted. “I keep thinking she blames me for not doing well in school.”

  “She doesn’t. You’re a good sister.”

  “I hope so.” She sighed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Okay. I’d like to take Josh camping,” he said. “Are you good with that?”

  “Sure. He’ll love it. Have you told him?”

  “I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Thank you. I say have a great time.”

  He grinned. “You want to come with us?”

  “Not even for money.”

  He chuckled. “I knew you’d say that.”

  Their drinks arrived. They sat in the bar for nearly two more hours, talking about work and Josh and mutual friends. Around ten, Greg drove her home.

  She’d been in his truck hundreds of times. She knew the route and how long the trip would take, and with each passing second, she found herself getting more and more nervous. Her mouth was dry, her hands trembled.

  It was all his fault, she thought, trying to summon annoyance with the hope that it would counteract the growing tension. He thought he was so smart when it came to her. Sure, he was being really nice and helping more with Josh, but so what? It had only been a few weeks. It wasn’t as if she could trust him.

  Which wasn’t really the problem, she admitted to herself. The problem was she missed him. Missed them. Greg had always been the only man in her life, and she didn’t want that to change. She wanted them back together. She wanted what they’d had before the affair, only without the drama. She wanted a husband she could depend on and she wanted that man to be Greg.

  Heat burned low in her belly. She recognized desire. It was brought on by too many months alone and the close proximity to the only man she’d ever been with. Whatever else had gone wrong between them, the sex had been right.

  Indecision tore at her. She wanted to ask him in...ask him to stay. She wanted to make love with him. Fast and hot, then more slowly. She wanted to feel his body next to hers, his hands everywhere. She wanted to kiss him until she was wet and swollen and oh so ready to be taken.

  But they were divorced and she just wasn’t sure. What if she asked and he said no? For all she knew, he was sleeping with someone else.

  The thought stabbed her, leaving her nearly breathless. She was still dealing with the possibility when he pulled into the driveway.

  “Thanks for the drive home,” she said and opened the passenger door.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine.” She slid to the ground. He started to get out of his truck, but she waved him back in place. “I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”

  “Rachel, what’s up?”

  “Nothing. Good night.” She slammed the car door shut and practically ran to the house. Once inside, she leaned against the door.

  What was wrong with her? So what if Greg was sleeping with someone else? They weren’t together anymore. He could do what he wanted. With whomever he wanted. They were both used to having great sex. Unless she was fooling herself. After all, he’d been with at least one other woman and she’d only ever been with him. Maybe what she thought was great sex was just ordinary. Maybe it was better with other women and he would have told her no, anyway.

  Thoughts swirled and danced, leaving her confused and with a headache. Not knowing what else to do, she started the long, lonely walk back to her solitary bedroom. The one she’d once shared with the only man she’d ever loved.

  19

  WHEN COURTNEY STILL hadn’t heard from her mother five days after the dinner, she knew there was a problem. The question was how to deal with it. The wedding was less than two months away and details had to be finalized. Perhaps more to the point, they were still a family, and getting along seemed kind of important.

  They’d gone longer without speaking, she reminded herself as she drove through town. The day she’d turned eighteen, she’d dropped out of high school, packed a bag and moved out. She hadn’t spoken to her mother for nearly a year.

  But this time was different. This time was her mother not answering her. She supposed there was some karmic payback in that and she probably shouldn’t complain, but she couldn’t help wondering...and maybe worrying.

  Figuring the wedding would go on regardless of the family drama, she headed for the appointment with Gracie Whitefield, local celebrity and nationally fam
ous cake decorator.

  Courtney pulled onto the quiet street and was pleased to see her mother’s car parked outside Gracie’s house. The huge old mansion had once belonged to Gracie’s husband’s uncle. From what Courtney had heard, an entire wing had been turned into an industrial kitchen for Gracie’s business.

  Courtney parked behind her mom’s car. She ran through possible greetings. The first one that came to mind was “you started it,” but that was hardly mature. She knew that technically she had every right to not share any part of her life. But technicalities weren’t always helpful—especially where mothers were concerned.

  She and Maggie got out of their cars at the same time. They looked at each other.

  Courtney drew in a breath and went with the obvious babble. “Hi, Mom. I’m glad you’re here. I think you’re really going to like Gracie’s cakes. She’s pretty gifted.” She hesitated, knowing she had to address what had happened. “About last Thursday,” she began. “I’m sorry if you’re upset.”

  Just saying the words made her wince. Talk about a weaselly apology.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” her mother told her. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Courtney felt the emotional slap hit her cheek. So all was not forgiven, or even understood. “Is Neil joining us?”

  “No. He was called away to a board meeting. He’s selling his company.”

  “I thought he had already sold it.”

  “The deal is taking a while.”

  And it required a board meeting? Courtney thought he owned a couple of video game/pizza places. Would that really require a board of directors? Not anything they were going to talk about now.

  They walked around to the side entrance to the house. Gracie opened the door as they approached. She was a pretty blonde, who greeted them with a friendly smile.

  “I’m so excited about your cake!” She ushered them into her kitchen.

  Gracie’s kitchen was large, with high ceilings and what seemed like miles of counter space. The decor was simple—white, painted cabinets, pale gray-and-white marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances. What could have seemed cold and impersonal was instead the perfect, plain backdrop for the extraordinary cakes being assembled.