Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3

by Laurie Larsen

  He supposed he took after his dad more than he thought.

  He sat quietly in the still car, and looked into the store through the plate-glass window. Jeremy was inside ringing up a customer.

  Forgive. Comfort. Reaffirm.

  That was God’s message to him. He was here, ready to do it. But how? Easier said than done.

  Jeremy’s customer left and Jeremy moved to the back of the store. Tom sat another minute, than let out a deep breath. He prayed a quick, Guide my words and pushed himself out.

  When he stepped through the door, Jeremy’s head popped up. His expression, first welcoming, turned guarded. Understandable. Tom hadn’t ever given him much reason to feel anything but guarded around him.

  Tom walked with determination directly up to Jeremy, stopping in front of him. After a slight pause, he held out a hand. Jeremy looked down at it and recognized it for what it was. An offering. Jeremy took Tom’s hand and they shook.

  “Jeremy, I never thanked you properly for finding Stella.”

  Jeremy’s eyebrows dove, creasing lines between his nose. “You don’t have to thank me, …”

  Tom forged on. “Stella’s lucky to have such a devoted uncle. And now I hear she’s going to have an aunt too.”

  Jeremy’s eyes widened slightly and he nodded.

  “Kids can never have enough love in their lives. I wish you and Emma the best.”

  Jeremy shut his mouth and recovered. “I hope you all can come to the wedding. Nothing formal, really. This Wednesday evening at the Steeple Church, then back to my dad and Leslie’s for a small reception.”

  “We’d be honored.”

  Jeremy stared. An awkward moment slipped by and Tom decided to take the “comfort” part of God’s order to a new level. He leaned his body in, lifted his right arm and wrapped it around Jeremy’s shoulders, pounding on his back. It couldn’t really qualify as a hug, but maybe a bro-embrace. Hopefully it provided some small ounce of comfort to his brother-in-law.

  “I haven’t treated you right since you came home. I apologize for that and I hope that someday you can forgive me.” He rushed on, despite Jeremy’s attempt to object. “What I told you before? Forget it. You’re welcome in our house. In our family.”

  He pulled away and headed for the door, murmuring, “See ya.” He’d almost reached his destination when Jeremy said, “Tom?” Instead of a question he held his palms up and shrugged.

  Tom smiled. “Read Second Corinthians.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Wednesday morning, Tom was working on payroll behind the guest desk. Emma Slotky walked into the great room, holding a garment bag. She spotted him and came to a stop, staring intently. Tom came out from around the desk and held a hand out. “Can I help you with that?”

  “No, that’s all right. It’s light.” She held it a moment longer, then stepped over to the couch and laid it there. “Jeremy told me about your visit. I have to say we were both a little floored.”

  Tom nodded. “I had a heart-to-heart with a very wise man who helped me see the error of my ways.”

  Emma blinked. “It’s not Jeremy you should have ever been mad at. It’s my father. Or me, by connection.”

  “I’m not mad at you. Family is more important than being right. Or thinking you’re right. Or having good reason to be a jerk.” Tom clenched his mouth shut. It wasn’t coming out right. It had been so eloquent when his dad had said it, and so clear in his mind. This was why he needed God to guide him. He reached out and put a hand on Emma’s arm. “Regardless. I want to support and love you and Jeremy in your marriage, and I want us to be family. Can you forgive me for making things so difficult the last few months?”

  Emma’s face transformed into a happy sigh of relief. “Of course, Tom! I’m so glad to hear that. In fact,” she turned and picked up the garment bag, “I’m going to leave this here. I got this for Stella to wear as flower girl, but I’ll leave it to you and Marianne to decide if you want her to do it. Either way, we’re just thrilled that you’re coming to the wedding.”

  Tom gazed at it for a split second and the corner of his lips curled into a smile. “Do me a favor. Let’s keep this as a surprise from Marianne for now, okay?”

  She handed him the garment bag, stood on her tiptoes and gave him a very quick kiss on the cheek. With a “bye” she breezed out.

  * * *

  Wednesday evening, Marianne stood in the door of her tiny bedroom closet, staring at its contents. A wave of sadness rolled over her but she was determined to ignore it. This day should be one of the happiest of her life. Her dear Jeremy had found happiness and turned his life completely around. But instead, it was one of the saddest.

  Shoving hanger after hanger aside, she huffed a deep breath. Tom should be taking her to this wedding, sharing in her happiness for her brother. Stella should be dressed in an adorable gown, holding her little basket of rose petals. Marianne should be coaching her on how to most daintily and delicately walk down the aisle, preparing it for the bride’s arrival. Instead, she stood alone, ten pounds overweight, on the verge of tears, knowing that not a single garment in her closet would work. She’d either wear something comfortable that wasn’t dressy enough, or she’d squeeze into something dressy and would barely be able to breathe, only to go to the ceremony alone.

  She sighed and rubbed her eyes, determined to hold off the tears she felt just under the surface. Well, fair or not, she wasn’t going to miss Jeremy’s wedding. She simply wouldn’t. She’d have to deal with Tom and his irrational anger later.

  A dress would be most appropriate. Jeremy had said informal, but he was wearing a tux, and Emma was wearing a white wedding gown, so the guests should be dressed in kind. The only problem was, she hadn’t worn a dress, other than a summer sundress in several years, and it was too chilly still, in April, for a sundress. Not to mention, her sundresses were ancient, probably out of style, and possibly raggedy.

  She dug further back and pulled out one or two slightly more formal dresses. A quick check of the tags proved her fear — she was up a size or in some cases, two, too big to wear them comfortably. She threw one of her skinny dresses down on the closet floor and groaned. She should’ve made the time to go clothes shopping today. What had been so important today that she couldn’t slip away for an hour to make sure she was adequately dressed for her brother’s most important night of his life?

  A rustling behind her had her whirling around in a panic. Tom stood, clad in dress pants and button-down shirt, and was looking in the mirror, struggling with a tie. “Give me a hand?” he said distractedly. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had to tie one of these things.”

  She stared, wide-eyed, then walked up behind him, shooing his hands away from the tie and taking it over herself. When they were first married and Tom had a corporate job in an office, she’d tied his ties for him every morning. There was something intimate about putting the final touches on her businessman. Since they’d bought the Inn, his suit-wearing days were about as over as her dress-wearing days. However, she noticed with a humph, his suit appeared to fit as perfectly as the day he bought it.

  She finished the job and he turned around and before she could even think, he laid his lips on hers and ran his hands up and down her arms, slowly, cherishing her lips with their warmth. He pulled away and she was breathless. She turned away to get a hold of herself. She turned back. “You look nice. What’s the occasion?”

  Surprise flickered across his face. “Jeremy and Emma’s wedding.”

  “You’re going?” She didn’t mean her tone to come out accusatorially, but there it was. And he’d noticed it too, based on the brief damage on his expression.

  “Yes.”

  Miracles never ceased. Well, as much as she appreciated him going, he’d better not ruin it. She expected him to be supportive and keep his negative opinions to himself.

  She turned back to her closet. “Unfortunately, I don’t have anything to wear.”

  He came up
behind her and peered in. He reached in and pulled out a turquoise cotton sundress, the bodice and straps highlighted by a white lace applique.

  She shook her head. “It’s sleeveless. Too chilly.”

  He stuck his bottom lip out and looked into her closet again. With half a second’s examination, he pulled out a denim cropped Western jacket with three-quarter length sleeves, front welt pockets and princess seams. She frowned at it. “Denim? This is a wedding. Too casual.”

  “Try it on together. You’ll look beautiful.”

  She sighed, then figured it was a better combination than she had come up with. She quickly undressed, slipped the dress on, and the jacket on top. She left the jacket unbuttoned and something about the lace applique gave it a little dressiness. The denim would keep her warm from the chill, it was a dress and it fit. Home run.

  She looked at him shyly. “Thanks, Tom.”

  He smiled, grabbed his suit jacket and left the room. She heard him a few minutes later in Stella’s room. Stella was excited about something, judging from her giggles. She paused outside her daughter’s door, listening to the laughter and excitement, mingled with Tom’s deeper voice. She tapped on the door and opened it.

  Tom was kneeling behind Stella, zipping up her dress. Stella was bouncing on her tiptoes, anxious for him to finish. She twirled around and barely contained her words, “Look at my new dress, Mommy! It’s for Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Emma’s wedding. They’re getting married! And we’re all going to watch, and I have a new dress!”

  Yes, it was new. Marianne had never laid eyes on it before. Not only was it new, it was beyond dressy. It was a deep island blue taffeta with a fitted bodice, sleeveless arms, and studded rhinestones along the neckline. The knee-length skirt was full and pleated, complete with a lovely fabric bow around the waist. Stella looked gorgeous.

  She stared, mouth open, from her daughter to her husband. “What the heck is going on? Did your parents bring this dress for her? Why is this the first time I’m seeing it?” She walked in the room and took the beautiful skirt in between her fingers. “You look like a princess, baby.”

  Tom stood. “We better go or we’ll be late to the wedding.” Stella ran past her, followed closely by Tom. She grabbed his arm and said in a loud whisper, “What?”

  He smiled. “I never should’ve said that Stella couldn’t go to the wedding. I’m sorry.”

  This complete 180 by Tom confused her. But gave her a cautious sense of optimism. She shook her head as she followed her family out to the car.

  * * *

  They drove a few miles off the island to a white frame church, boasting a tall white steeple that soared into the clouds, nestled in a small valley filled with trees. It was like a fairytale church. They walked inside and Marianne immediately picked up on the whispered excitement of the wedding. She saw her dad, dressed in a tux, Leslie proudly holding his arm. She waved and they made their way over.

  “Well, don’t you look handsome, Daddy?” Marianne said with a smile and gave him a kiss, then wiped her lipstick off his cheek. She leaned in and gave an air kiss to Leslie who looked beautiful and cool as ever in a peach satin dress.

  “I’m not only the father of the groom but I’m the best man,” Hank said, and he couldn’t hide the grin from his lips. Marianne inhaled softly, put her hand to her mouth, then had to fight back a tear. She gazed over at Leslie and they exchanged a knowing nod. This was only true because of Leslie. It was because of his dad’s bride that Hank had forgiven Jeremy last summer for the terrible troubles he’d caused the family. The fact that Jeremy had found love, and Hank was serving as best man was a testament to the love and forgiveness that only God can accomplish.

  As she shared a few words with her dad, she noticed Tom leaning over and whispering something to Stella. He rose and said, “We’d better get our seats, huh?”

  Her dad held a crooked arm out to Marianne and she took it and allowed him to lead her, followed by her small family, to the second row on the groom’s side. She looked up at the altar, covered with colorful spring flowers in teals, pinks and greens. The pipe organ saturated the room with heavy blasts of classic music.

  They sat, and after a moment, Leslie scooted in beside them, followed by her daughter, Jasmine. Marianne came to her feet, fussed over her younger stepsister and thanked her for coming. Jasmine looked adorable in a form-fitting pink dress. She was a senior at a college in New York. How very sweet of her to get away in the middle of a week, when she was surely approaching final exams, to support her stepbrother. After she sat, Marianne leaned over and told her so.

  “Hey, I feel somewhat responsible for them getting this far. I wouldn’t want to miss the wedding!”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jasmine beamed. “When I finished last semester, I came and stayed with Mom and Hank for a couple weeks. Jeremy and Emma were dating but Jeremy was thinking about breaking up with her, you know the noble thing because her father didn’t like him. He thought he was making her life easier by backing out of it.”

  “Really.”

  “Yep. I set him straight. And now look — they’re getting married!”

  “Good for you, Jasmine.”

  “Maybe I’ll start working on them to name their first baby after me.” They chuckled together and then Stella announced, “Mommy, I have to go to the restroom.”

  She nodded and started to get up, but Tom put his hand on her arm. “I’ll go with her. I saw the door in the back.”

  She frowned. Tom taking Stella to the ladies’ room? She couldn’t remember a time he’d ever done that, if Marianne were available. Hmm. Maybe he was having a change of heart. He had come to the wedding, allowed Stella to come, and even apologized about it. She’d have to talk to him later and find out just how far this turnaround went.

  The organ music changed then. Marianne recognized the opening of the traditional “Here Comes the Bride” song. She turned in her seat, hoping to find Stella. No way would she want to miss the processional of the bridesmaids and the bride. Just then, Tom slid back into the pew beside her.

  “Oh good, I didn’t want Stella to miss …,” Coming to a halt, she blinked at him. “Where’s Stella?” Her daughter hadn’t reappeared when her husband did.

  Tom smiled and pointed — to the back of the sanctuary. Marianne gave him a confused glare, and then turned in her seat to face the back. Along with the sound of “ahhhhs” from the crowd, she saw it.

  Stella, in her island blue sequined dress, held a basket of rose petals and walked down the aisle, tossing them randomly, smiling gleefully. When she was still a few rows away, a young woman wearing the same color, in a similar style dress, held a bouquet and followed Stella, walking determinedly in slow, methodical steps. Emma’s maid of honor.

  “Stella’s the flower girl!” Jasmine said happily. “She looks adorable.”

  Marianne tried to pull her mouth shut from her surprise and tore her gaze away from Stella long enough to look at Tom. He knew. He wasn’t surprised at all. In fact, he was so much more on top of this than she was. That dress, which matched perfectly with the bridal party, hadn’t come from his parents. Tom must have okayed Stella taking part in Jeremy’s wedding, and kept it as a surprise from her. But why?

  Stella approached their row and turned in, so excited and happy she was fairly bouncing as she walked. Marianne leaned down and wrapped her in a hug. “You did great, honey! Perfect job.” Stella nodded, exuding happiness in the most magical gown she’d ever worn.

  Then, Jeremy and her dad stepped through a doorway and took a few steps to the altar, where they stood facing the audience. Marianne’s heart flooded with happiness for him, so glad that he was experiencing this moment after all he’d been through.

  Emma’s bridesmaid made it to her destination, turned and faced the congregation as well. Then everyone stood. It was Emma’s turn.

  She made her way down the aisle, not on her dad’s arm, but on her mom’s, who was dressed one shade lighter than Stell
a. Emma’s dress was a simple but exquisite halter-necked chiffon wedding gown. The A-Line hem fell just to her knee, and her neck was draped with beads and sparkles. Her mountain of brown curls was worn up in a loose, wispy bun and the dress flowed gracefully with each step she took. A short lace veil covered her face.

  Marianne dragged her eyes away from her beauty for a second to focus on the groom. Jeremy stood transfixed, motionless and stunned.

  Emma approached him and the music settled down. The minister asked, “Who gives this young woman to this man in holy matrimony?”

  Emma’s mother reached up, removed the veil from Emma’s face and leaned in to kiss her cheek. She turned to the minister and said, “I do.”

  When they all settled into their seats, Tom tapped her arm. Marianne looked over. He whispered in her ear. “Can I steal you away for five minutes or less?”

  “Now?” She almost refused. She didn’t want to miss Jeremy’s ceremony. But the look on Tom’s face was so intense and focused that she knew it was important. And considering the surprises he’d already bestowed upon her this evening, she had to admit she was curious to find what was next. She nodded and they stood and started squeezing out of the aisle. When she crossed in front of Leslie, she made eye contact and pointed at Stella. Leslie nodded, an understanding between two mothers.

  Tom led her out the back, and into a small room where he closed the door. He turned to her and gently took both her hands in his. Then he brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out. “I love you, Marianne.”

  She almost responded the same automatically, but she held back. He’d dragged her out of her brother’s wedding to tell her something, and she felt quite certain there was more.

  “I’ve always loved you, and I’ve always admired you. You’re fiercely loyal to those you love, and you’re the best wife and mother I know.”