Daughters of the Bride

by Susan Mallery

  * * *

  There was nothing that took the edge off a day like the sound of margarita ingredients mixing in a good-quality blender. Courtney moved her hips in time with the music flowing out of her mother’s built-in speakers, then flipped the switch on the blender.

  When Maggie had called for an impromptu girls’ night in at her place, Courtney had taken the invitation as a peace offering. She’d rearranged her schedule to be there. Rachel and Sienna had come, as well. Neil had gone to Los Angeles for a couple of days, so it was girls only. Probably for the last time until after the wedding.

  She turned off the blender and poured the slushy mixture into four salt-rimmed glasses. Her mother took the first one and smiled at her. Courtney smiled back.

  Yes, there were things to say. Maybe things that might never be said. Was it better to get everything in the open and deal with it? Probably, but so what? Every family had problems. To be honest, she could go her whole life without having to deal with who did what and when. Better to just accept there had been a problem and move on.

  “I got takeout,” Maggie announced as they took seats around the island. “Mexican from Bill’s.”

  “Appropriate.” Sienna took a long drink of her margarita. “Did you know that alcohol enhances the aging process?”

  They all stared at her.

  “That was cheerful,” Rachel told her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Better than fine, because you know what? If I start to look old, I can get plastic surgery.”

  Courtney moved close and touched her sister’s arm. “What’s going on?”

  For a second Sienna looked as if she was going to cry. Then she tossed her head. “Nothing. I’m fine. Just being weird. Ignore me.” She turned to their mother. “Let’s talk about the wedding. Mom, what’s new with that?”

  Maggie grinned. “Well, there are a few things I can show you.”

  “I want to see them all,” Sienna told her.

  Maggie got up and hurried from the room. Rachel got a large bowl and dumped chips in it while Courtney collected the take-out containers of salsa and guacamole. By the time Maggie returned with a couple of boxes, they were passing the bowls along the island.

  “I have sneakers,” she said, opening the first box. “I love the internet. Have I mentioned that? Did you know you can order custom sneakers on the Converse website and that they have special wedding ones?”

  She held up a pair that were white and trimmed in pink. On the heel, one shoe said “Maggie” and the other said “Neil.”

  “Too cute,” Rachel told her. “What else?”

  Their mother showed them etched champagne glasses for the bride and groom, along with a custom garter.

  “I’m not going to have Neil throw it,” she said, closing the box. “I’m a little old to be flashing that much thigh, but we’ll know it’s there and that’s what matters.” She looked at Courtney. “You’re doing a wonderful job with the wedding. Thank you for that, darling. It’s going to be an amazing day.”

  “I think it is.” Courtney thought about mentioning Jill’s due date concerns, but when she’d told her mother about the change, Maggie had insisted on keeping Jill as her first choice for an officiate. So Courtney had found a backup minister.

  Maggie pushed the boxes to the far end of the island. “So how is everyone doing? I feel like we’re all so busy these days. Rachel, honey, you’re looking so good.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel raised her margarita. “Tonight I sin, but in the morning, I will walk.” She shrugged. “I’m taking care of myself and it’s really helping me feel better.”

  “How’s Greg?”

  Rachel stiffened. “Why would you ask me that?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. I think about him. You two were so good together. I’m sorry he was an idiot.”

  “Me, too,” Rachel admitted. “At least we’re getting along and he’s being such a good dad to Josh.”

  Courtney studied her sister. The words were all correct, but there was something in Rachel’s tone. Nothing bad. Was it wistfulness? She’d said that Greg was around more, helping and hanging out with his son. Was there more going on?

  “Any sparks?” Sienna asked, cutting right to the chase.

  “What?” Rachel looked away. “Of course not. We’re divorced. Sure, we can be friends, but that’s all. I’m sure he’s dating a million other people.”

  “I haven’t seen him with anyone,” Sienna said.

  “Me, either.” Maggie sipped her drink. “I won’t push. You had every right to throw him out. It’s just...well, enough about that. Sienna, how’s David?”

  “Good. Fine. We’re putting off planning our wedding until after yours, but I’m paying attention so I can steal all the best ideas.”

  Courtney wasn’t sure that happy statement could have sounded more wooden. “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” Sienna beamed. “I’m happily engaged.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “No one believes that. You want to talk about it?”

  Sienna drained her glass. “What I would love is a refill.” She walked to the blender and poured. “Courtney, your turn. How’s your love life?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  Everyone laughed. “Of course you do,” her mother said. “You’re seeing Quinn.”

  “Sure, but it’s just fun.” And hot and amazing, she thought, glancing at the henna on the backs of her hands. “He’s not the settling-down kind. I mean, look at him. He’s dated all kinds of famous women. Actresses and models. He wouldn’t be interested in me.”

  “Of course he would,” Rachel told her. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks, but let’s be real.” She reached for a chip. “However this ends, he’s been so great to me. He’s helped with a lot of things.” Like her worrying about being too tall, and he’d been there after Joyce had outed her about her education. “I like him. He’s been an amazing summer fling. When it ends, and it will, I’ll be crushed, but I’ll move on.”

  “I’d really like to see you married,” Maggie said, then frowned. “All of you. Dear God, I just realized, you’re all single.”

  “I’m engaged,” Sienna said, waving her left hand. “Look. I have a ring and everything.”

  “Yes, but none of you are married. I’m a horrible mother.”

  Now Courtney was the one to roll her eyes. “Mom, shocking, but true—not everything is about you.”

  Maggie laughed. “You’re right, but it should be. Don’t you agree? Now, who wants dinner?”

  * * *

  Josh bolted from the kitchen for his Tuesday night video game session. One of the new rules for summer was limiting his computer playtime to three nights a week. Greg stared after him.

  “Are those skid marks on the floor?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Absolutely. I always plan to entertain myself on video game nights.”

  He turned back to the dishwasher and loaded the last of the dishes. When Greg had brought Josh home from camp, they’d stopped for takeout, and somehow her ex had ended up staying for dinner. With Josh at the table, she hadn’t worried about feeling awkward, but now they were alone and she had no idea what to say.

  “How’s your arm?” she asked, then wondered if she shouldn’t have. Maybe it was better to ignore what had happened before.

  “Nearly healed. The stitches are dissolving, so I just have to keep it dry a few more days and I’ll be good as new.”

  She wiped down the counter. “Good. And that other guy, Tommy? How’s he doing?”

  “He’ll be back to work tomorrow.”

  She rinsed off her hands and dried them. Okay, time to get Greg to leave. Only, she wasn’t sure how without being rude. Before she could figure something out, he’d crossed
to the Keurig and turned it on.

  “I’d like a decaf,” he said. “What about you?”

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  He knew where everything was. As he collected the pods and mugs, she went into the living room and settled in one of the chairs. On purpose. With the sofa, she would worry about where to sit. One end? The middle? A chair was much safer.

  Greg brought in their coffees a few minutes later. He sat on the end of the sofa closest to her.

  “My mom was telling me I don’t bring you around enough,” he told her.

  “I’ll have to stop in and see her the next time I pick up Josh.” Rachel had always liked Greg’s parents. “How’s it going living with them?” Because he’d moved in with them after the divorce.

  “Not bad. They mostly leave me alone.”

  “You ever think about getting a place of your own?”

  “Sometimes. I’m waiting.”

  That got her attention. Waiting for what? For them? Her heart began to beat faster in her chest. Was this it? Were they going to talk about their relationship now? She opened her mouth, closed it, then decided to let him bring it up.

  “How is it going with Josh and his chores?” he asked.

  Okay, not the subject she’d been expecting. “I haven’t done much with that,” she admitted.

  “I could tell from the chart on the refrigerator. Why don’t you want him doing chores?”

  “I do.”

  “But?”

  She shifted on her seat. “I don’t know. It’s easier to do it myself. Then I know it’s done right.”

  “I thought you hated cleaning up after him in the bathroom.”

  “Well, if you’re going to use logic,” she murmured, then sighed. “You’re right. I need to get him to clean his bathroom.”

  Greg’s dark gaze was steady. “You really have trouble asking for help, don’t you? How much of that is about me, and how much of it is your dad?”

  She stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “I’m sure you don’t, but you should. Come on, Rachel, you’ve always had trouble letting other people do things for you. Help me understand why that is.”

  “I just...” She picked up her coffee, then put it back on the coffee table. “I’ve always been that way.” She could remember her mother crouched in front of her, tears in her eyes. “Be a good girl for me, Rachel. Please. I need you to take care of things.”

  “You took on a lot when your dad died,” Greg said gently. “Too much.”

  “My mom depended on me.”

  “You did her proud, I’m sure. Then you married me and I was in no way ready for that kind of responsibility. So once again you got stuck doing it all. What was the lesson you learned? That if you depend on someone, they’ll let you down?”

  “Someone’s been reading a lot of self-help books.”

  “True, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

  She’d been hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I am afraid,” she admitted. “I trusted you, Greg. With everything I had, and you let me down.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. If I could take that back, I would. I was wrong. No matter what was happening between us, I didn’t have the right to do that. But I hope you understand my cheating was a symptom, not a goal.”

  “You were angry and frustrated,” she admitted. “I knew that. I felt like I couldn’t get your attention and you thought I was never happy.”

  Which she hadn’t been, she thought to her herself. Not at the end.

  “I wish you’d think about trusting me now,” he said quietly. “I’m doing my best to show you that you can. I meant what I said before. There isn’t anyone else. There hasn’t been.”

  “For, ah, me, either.”

  He smiled. “Good. I’m glad you believe me.” He glanced at his watch. “I have an early start tomorrow. I need to get home.”

  Just like that? Didn’t he want to stay and maybe make out with her? Obviously not.

  She rose. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”

  “You’re welcome. Get on Josh about doing his chores. He’s a capable kid. Have a little faith.”

  “I will.”

  “I hope that’s true, Rachel. More than you know.”

  24

  “THEY’RE ALL BALLADS.” Collins spoke defiantly, as if expecting an argument.

  Bryan sucked in a breath. “Dude.”

  “I couldn’t help it,” Collins said. “That’s what they are.”

  Quinn studied the music. Collins preferred to get the melody nailed down before he added lyrics. Quinn could work any way his artists wanted. But he was known to not appreciate a ballad, no matter how well they sold.

  “Ballads are fine,” he said easily, reaching for his guitar.

  Collins and Bryan stared at him.

  “You sure?” Collins asked.

  “Yup.”

  “You’re mellowing.” Bryan picked up a pad of paper. “Is it an age thing?”

  “Don’t make me have Wayne beat the crap out of you, kid.”

  Bryan chuckled. “I’m glad you said it that way, because I’m pretty sure I could take you, old man.”

  “In your dreams. And it’s not an age thing.”

  If he had to guess, he would say it was a Courtney thing, along with a coming-home thing. Being back felt right. He liked the pace of life here. He didn’t miss any part of his life in LA—except maybe the view. That had been damned nice. But he could make do.

  He liked being close to his grandmother. He liked the building his company had bought and how it was going to be when it was finished. He liked being with Courtney. She was that unique combination of challenging and restful. There had been a lot of women in his life. More than most men had. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad—the volume simply was. He was ready to let that go, as well.

  The change had started a couple of years ago—when he’d been seeing Shannon. Before he had realized his feelings had changed, she’d fallen for someone else. He didn’t think she was the one who’d gotten away, but he recognized he’d lost an opportunity. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. He wanted more. He wanted permanent. Traditional. A wife. Kids. A couple of dogs—although they would never be as glorious and special as Sarge and Pearl.

  “You ready?” Collins asked, drawing him back to the present.

  “Let’s make it happen.”

  Collins played several chords. Quinn listened, breathing in the sounds and letting them sink in deep. He didn’t say anything. Collins played them again and again. On the fourth pass, Quinn played along, then made a few changes. Bryan scribbled the new chords.

  Quinn played the whole thing while Collins listened, and so it went, back and forth until they had the melody nailed. They moved on to the lyrics. Quinn read through the lines.

  “I think it’s over before it began rather than over when it began,” he said.

  “That’s better.” Bryan played the melody and sang along.

  Two hours later they had a song. It would need tweaking before it was ready, but Quinn was excited. This one had the potential to be a hit.

  The guys collected their stuff. Leigh, Tadeo’s wife, had come to town and was having the band over for barbecue. He’d declined the invitation but had heard Wayne was going. As much as his assistant pretended to dislike And Then, hanging out with them was good for him. And for them.

  As Collins and Bryan left, he saw Courtney walk toward the bungalow. She had Sarge and Pearl each on a leash. She waved at him.

  “We’re going for a walk,” she called. “Want to come with?”

  She still had her bangs. He suspected she kept them because they suited her face and not because they made her sexy as hell. Even in jeans and a T-shirt she got to him
. She was a walking, breathing fantasy, and she had absolutely no clue. How could he resist that?

  “A walk sounds great.” He grabbed the bungalow key and his cell phone, shut the front door and stepped out onto the path. He greeted both dogs, then took Pearl’s leash and fell into step with Courtney.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Good. T minus three weeks and counting.” She drew her brows together. “Why do we say T? Does it mean time?”

  “I think so. We can look it up online if you’d like.”

  “I expected you to just know. You seem to have a lot of knowledge at your fingertips.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Like your skill with henna.”

  He grinned. “That was fun.”

  “It was.”

  They walked west, toward the path down to the beach. The late afternoon was warm, the sky clear. Once they reached the edge of the property, there was a stone path that led down the cliff to the rocky beach below. The air tasted of salt, and the sound of the waves grew louder as they started down.

  “I have to go to LA in a few days,” he told her. “I need to check on a couple of things at the house before I list it. I’m also thinking of having a party. A last hurrah.”

  “You really doing it? Really moving to Los Lobos?”

  “I am. I’m going to start looking for a place here.”

  “I don’t know what to make of that. Won’t you miss being around industry people?”

  “No, and anyone who wants to see me can come here. About the party. Want to come with me as my date?”

  She looked at him. “Go to LA with you to attend a fancy music industry party?”

  He grinned. “I can even promise you a few movie stars.”

  “I’ve never been to a party like that. What if I don’t fit in?”

  “You’ll be with me.”

  That made her laugh. “Because if I’m with you, I’m one of the in people.”