The Wedding Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Kyle, stop. I just told her how much the inn means to us. How we’ve never imagined being married anywhere else.”

  “No, we never have,” Kyle agreed. “When do you see her again?”

  “On Thursday. My mother is coming with me. She already hates the place and she hasn’t even seen it.”

  “That sounds about right.” Kyle laughed. “Your mother never lets the facts get in the way of her opinions, I’ll say that for her.”

  Jennifer didn’t answer. She knew her mother could be difficult, though she meant well. But all the advice and opinions had been rubbing Kyle the wrong way lately, and there would probably be a lot more of them before this was all over.

  “Just cross your fingers that Liza agrees to do the wedding,” Jennifer told him. “I did tell her a few times that all we want is a small, simple party. That seemed to help.”

  “Good. That is all we want, a nice celebration with our closest family and friends. Nothing over the top,” Kyle agreed.

  Jennifer was glad they were in tune about their wedding. She had a feeling, though, that her parents—especially her mother—had other, more elaborate ideas. But she couldn’t worry about that yet. Getting her parents to agree on the inn was the most important thing right now.

  “So how’s work?” she asked. “Anything interesting going on?”

  “There is, actually. A big project is starting up in New York, and Ted told me a few of us might be sent down to help out.” Ted Waters was Kyle’s boss. He liked Kyle and often took him into his confidence. “It’s a merger, I think, but pretty confidential,” Kyle added.

  “Oh, cool. New York is fun. For a few days.”

  “If I have to go, it will be more than a few days,” Kyle explained. “And I’ll be working every minute. But Ted says it’s good to be assigned to the main office, even on a short-term project. All the big executives are down there, and they get to see your work firsthand.”

  “That would be great, honey. But I hope they don’t send you this time. We have so much to do before the wedding,” Jen said honestly.

  Kyle had a master’s in business administration and worked at a branch of an investment firm in Boston with a main office in New York. His office wasn’t very far from his apartment on the waterfront, where they planned to live once they were married. Jen had moved some of her belongings there from her dorm when she graduated and couldn’t wait to move the rest.

  The space had real potential, Jennifer thought, though right now it was decorated in Early Guy, with a lot of dark leather furniture and a big flat-screen TV. She couldn’t wait to start fixing it up and had already ordered some furniture, area rugs, and window treatments. She also hoped she and Kyle could do some painting. Which wouldn’t be likely if he was stuck in New York until their wedding day.

  Jennifer did love the location of their new apartment. Kyle could walk right across the new highway, past Faneuil Hall, and into the financial district without ever needing a train or a bus.

  That was just one of the great things about Boston. You could walk anywhere you wanted, and the city had everything you needed but on a livable scale. Not like New York, which was exhilarating at first and then seemed so crowded and overwhelming.

  It really got on Jen’s nerves if she was there for more than a weekend; she didn’t envy Kyle if he had to work in that main office.

  “I wish I had a job, too,” she said. “I don’t think you should be the only one working while I’m hanging out all summer.”

  “Give yourself a chance, Jen. You just graduated two weeks ago,” he reminded her with a laugh. “Besides, you have plenty of work to do planning our wedding.”

  “That’s not work. That’s my dream come true. I can’t wait to be married to you,” she said softly.

  She heard Kyle sigh. “Me, too. I can’t wait to be with you twenty-four-seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year, forever and ever.”

  Jen didn’t answer. She set the words very carefully into a little pocket in her heart, to think about later and help her feel less lonely for him while they were apart.

  “Should I pick you up at the station on Friday?” Jennifer asked. Kyle had a car but sometimes left it at his parents’ house. He rarely used it during the week; it was annoying to search for parking in Boston. Besides, Jennifer enjoyed picking him up at the train station. It felt as though they were really married.

  “You’d better. I left my car at my parents’ house last week. Oh, I almost forgot . . . Your dad sent me an e-mail about golf on Saturday. What do you think? We would just play nine holes, and then you and I can go out for dinner Saturday night.”

  “That would be fine. My mom and I can work on the wedding,” Jennifer said agreeably.

  Although Jennifer coveted her precious time with Kyle on the weekends, she knew it was important for her parents to have a good relationship with him, too. Kyle got along well with both of them, especially her dad. Jennifer imagined that once they were married, Kyle and her dad would have regular golf outings in Cape Light on the weekends while she and her mother enjoyed some one-on-one time.

  She often pictured the way it would be in the summertime. She and Kyle could rent a little cottage in Cape Light or even on Angel Island for the season. She’d have the entire summer off as a schoolteacher, which would be perfect once they had children. It was a great place for kids to spend the summer—just as she and Kyle had growing up. There was so much to look forward to. She couldn’t wait to start her new life.

  It was all going to work out just fine. If they could just manage to get married.

  They talked a bit more before Jennifer ended the call. She felt tired but happy. She went to bed feeling satisfied that she had made some real progress with their plans today.

  As she drifted off to sleep, visions of her wedding day filled her head, floating up like satin ribbons against a clear blue sky.

  Chapter Three

  WHY had she ever told Jennifer Bennet she would give this wedding business a try? On Tuesday morning, Liza regretted the impulse that had taken hold of her the night before.

  “I’ll put some ideas together for you, Jen. . . . Let’s see how it goes.” Liza mimicked herself aloud, then stuck out her tongue. Then she dropped her head onto her desktop, amid the pile of wedding checklists, sample menus, glossy bride magazines, and everything else she had found while doing research.

  She’d only been at it for a few hours, but it felt like days. There was so much information and so many choices. How did anyone navigate this vast nuptial sea?

  Claire peeked into the sitting room. “Any progress?”

  “I’m not sure. But I do have a splitting headache.” Liza sat back and rubbed a knot of tension at the back of her neck. “Why did I ever say I would try this? I should call her up right now and back out. That would be the sane, humane thing to do.”

  Claire made a sympathetic sound but totally ignored her question.

  “Would you mind going to the General Store for me?” Claire asked. “I’ve run out of Old Bay. I’d go myself but I’m in the middle of weeding the vegetable patch. I put the chowder on and I can’t leave it.”

  Liza suddenly realized Claire had dirt stains on her hands and knees, and even a little on her cheek. She wore her usual cotton dress but had a bandana tied around her head as well.

  “I should help you. It’s getting hot out, and there’s a lot to do. At least I’d feel productive.”

  “You can get me some Old Bay,” Claire repeated with emphasis. Liza knew the famous seasoning was essential to many of Claire’s dishes, and running out of it was unthinkable. “And a few carrots, potatoes, a turnip, and some parsley. That would be productive.” Claire smiled gently at her. “Some fresh air might help your headache, too.”

  The suggestion made Liza smile. She hadn’t known Claire very long, but she already knew that the remedy she suggested most often, for most any ailment, was fresh air. The funny thing was, Liza had found, it usually worked.

 
A short time later, Liza was headed toward the town center on her bike. It was one of many old bicycles she had found in the barn behind the inn. It was heavy, hard to pedal, and the gears slipped. The seat seemed to be made of cast iron, and she could barely walk straight after a long trip. But the bike was the best of the lot and got her where she needed to go.

  The views along the road that led from the inn to the town center were so distractingly beautiful that, after the first few minutes, she hardly noticed the discomfort of her ride.

  The ocean stretched out on the left side of the road, rolling meadows on the right. A few large old houses built in the late 1800s could be seen nearby. Some were in better condition than the inn and some in worse. Every time Liza took this ride, she tried to judge how the inn compared to its neighbors, now that the renovations were coming along. The inn had definitely improved, moving up a few notches, but it wasn’t quite in the top tier yet.

  But you have to have goals, Liza reminded herself with a grin.

  A farm stood on the property that bordered her own. Liza pedaled past the familiar sign “Gilroy Goat Farm—Organic Herbs, Goat Cheese, Fudge, Soaps & Lavender.” She gazed out at the large meadow, trying to catch a glimpse of her friend Audrey Gilroy, who owned the farm with her husband.

  Liza checked the barn area and the area around the large white building where the cheese was made. No sign of Audrey working outside. Liza thought she might give her friend a call later, when she got home.

  She pedaled farther, passing a few cottages and lots of open land, then finally came to the small commercial center of the island, the place where the two main roads met. There was a small square with benches and a fountain, shaded by tall trees.

  The fountain was running today, Liza noticed, and the stone urns were filled with colorful flowers and trailing vines. She hopped off the bike, parked it by a bench, and headed for the General Store.

  The store was one of the few commercial buildings on the island. A walk-in medical clinic stood right beside it. A large, first-aid cross, red on a white background, decorated the storefront window.

  Daniel and her friend Audrey both volunteered at the clinic. Wondering if either of them was working now, Liza peered in through the window. She saw two people sitting on the hard plastic chairs, waiting for medical attention. A volunteer sat at the reception desk, taking information from another patient. Liza looked around the small room again but didn’t see Audrey.

  Then she felt a tap on her shoulder and nearly jumped two feet in the air.

  “Need some first aid, miss? I’m fully certified.”

  Liza instantly recognized the voice. She turned and faced Audrey Gilroy, who, before moving to Angel Island, had, in fact, been a registered nurse.

  “Glad you asked. I need my head examined,” Liza moaned. “Think you can help me?”

  Audrey stared at her, trying not to laugh. “What’s up, Liza? Anything wrong?”

  “Do you have a minute? This could take a while.”

  “I’m not in a rush. I’m on front desk duty today but I’m early. Let’s go over here and talk.” Audrey led Liza back to the benches and they sat down. “So . . . does this have anything to do with Daniel?”

  Liza gave her a look. “No. What made you think that?”

  Audrey shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just taking a wild guess. Too bad,” she added under her breath.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just wondering what’s going on with you guys. Don’t keep telling me you’re just friends,” Audrey warned. “I’m not buying.”

  “We are just friends . . . more or less. Well, more than friends, I guess. But I don’t really know what you’d call it, exactly.” The question had her stumped. “I wish I knew myself. But I can’t even think about that right now. I have a real problem.”

  “Okay, go ahead. Sorry I distracted you.” Audrey sounded contrite, but the twinkle in her eye told Liza she was really not sorry at all and wanted to talk more about Liza’s love life—or lack of one. “How can I help?”

  “Just listen to what I did and tell me how stupid I am.”

  “No problem,” Audrey promised with a smile.

  Liza sighed and quickly told her the whole story—how Jennifer had arrived at the inn out of the blue yesterday, insisting that she had to have her wedding there, telling her romantic story, including the touching memories of Aunt Elizabeth.

  And how Liza had first said absolutely no way, but by the evening, had called and told Jennifer she would put together a few ideas for her.

  “Wow, a wedding. That’s great! I’d love to see a wedding at the inn. Do you need any goat cheese? I’d be happy to contribute to the cause,” Audrey offered.

  “That’s just the problem,” Liza admitted. “I don’t know the first thing about planning or putting on a wedding. Do I even need goat cheese? I haven’t got a clue. I’ve been researching that very question and many others online all night and this morning and I’m totally in over my head. This girl and her mother are coming on Thursday morning to hear my ideas. Jennifer has her heart set. She won’t take no for an answer. I don’t know how to get out of it gracefully.”

  Audrey’s big brown eyes lit up and she smiled. “I know the perfect person to help you. Molly Willoughby. She runs this fabulous gourmet food shop and catering business in Cape Light, Willoughby Fine Foods.”

  “I’ve gone in there a few times. The food is amazing.”

  “So is Molly. She’s a sweetheart, too. She buys all her goat cheese from us and a lot of other products. Her firm caters weddings and huge parties every weekend. Let me get you guys together. I’m sure she’ll give you some good advice.”

  Before Liza could reply, Audrey whipped out her cell phone and called Molly. Audrey quickly explained the situation, listened a moment, then turned to Liza.

  “She’s coming to the island this afternoon. She can stop by the inn and talk to you.”

  “She will? That’s great. Tell her to come anytime.”

  Audrey relayed the message and hung up, then sat back with a satisfied smile. “Any other problems I can solve? Ready to talk more about Daniel now?”

  Liza laughed. “I’ll let you know when.”

  Liza had a feeling she would talk to her friend about Daniel sooner or later. Audrey and her husband had been friends with Daniel for a few years, ever since they had settled on the island. But this was not the time for that conversation, Liza knew.

  “Thanks for connecting me with Molly. She sounds like she knows her stuff,” Liza told her friend.

  “Oh, she knows her stuff and she’s very plainspoken. If Molly thinks you’re crazy, she’ll let you know,” Audrey promised.

  “That’s what I need, an honest, straightforward, expert opinion.”

  Secretly, Liza wondered if Molly would say she was crazy to try it and that the inn was in no shape for a wedding. That would get her off the hook; she could tell Jennifer that she had consulted with a well-known expert.

  “Thanks, Audrey, you’re a pal. I owe you one.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Next time my goats wander over and start munching on your flower beds, I’ll remind you.”

  “I might ask to borrow a few of them next week so I don’t have to mow the lawns.”

  “Deal.”

  Liza just smiled. Sometimes it was hard to remember that their friendship only went back a few months, not a few years. She was very lucky to have found such a warm, funny friend on the island. She knew Audrey was a special blessing in her new life.

  Audrey got up to report to the clinic for her volunteer shift, and Liza headed into the General Store. The store was wide and low, and the very distinct smell of the place immediately transported her to the long-ago days when she spent summers on the island as a little girl. It was a unique mixture of fresh-brewed coffee, soap powders, fresh donuts, produce, and the wooden floorboards.

  Marion Doyle, who ran the store with her husband, Walter, stood behind the count
er, wearing a white apron over a short-sleeved red-and-white-checked blouse and baggy khaki pants.

  Liza didn’t see Walter around. Marion was helping a customer send a package by parcel post, since she also doubled as the island’s postmistress. Liza could overhear their long discussion about the rates and the various dates the package could be delivered. By the time the transaction was complete, Marion had learned a lot about the sender, the receiver, the contents of the box, and various other facts about the customer’s life.

  There was little that happened on the island that Marion did not know. She could have written a newspaper gossip column, she was so well informed. But there was no paper on the island, so most residents relied on chatting with Marion for their local news.

  Liza browsed the two short grocery aisles and the small but well-stocked section of fresh vegetables. Claire had given her a list, and Liza found everything except for the turnip. She was wondering if she could bring back a big yam instead when Marion approached.

  “Finding what you need, Liza?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Just about. You don’t have any turnips today, do you?”

  Marion shook her head, her lips pursed. “No, ma’am. We have been out of turnips for a few days. I expect to get more vegetables in tomorrow. There should be some artichokes. It’s the season.”

  “I’ll tell Claire. I’m sure she can do wonders with an artichoke.”

  “She can do wonders in the kitchen with anything cookable,” Marion agreed.

  Knowing that was true, Liza decided to take the yam. She brought her items up to the register in a little wire basket, and Marion rang them up. “So, I hear there’s going to be a wedding soon at the inn,” she said cheerfully.

  “Who told you that?” Liza asked, though she could already guess.

  “The Bennet girl, Jennifer.” Marion’s tone was innocent. “She told me herself. Just yesterday. Stopped by for a cold drink and we got to talking.”

  That goes without saying, Liza thought.

  “I was admiring her ring. I hadn’t seen it yet, though I’d heard in church that she was engaged. I asked her if she had set the date and she told me not exactly, but they really wanted to get married this summer at the inn and she’d just come from talking with you.”