It was amazing how she had come full circle from Monday morning when Jennifer had appeared at the door out of the blue. Her request had seemed impossible then. But maybe anything is possible, Liza reflected, when you ask heaven for your heart’s desire and won’t take no for an answer. The way Jennifer did.
And the way I did, Liza reflected, when I chose to stay on Angel Island.
JENNIFER and Kyle quickly headed across the road and down the steep path to the beach below. Jennifer kicked off her shoes and ran to the water. “I missed you, beach. I really did,” she called out. She picked up the edge of her sundress and waded into the foam. When she finally looked up, Kyle was standing a short distance away, watching her.
“I’m marrying a total nut. But she’s a beautiful one.”
“Thanks, honey. I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jen walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, then wound her arm around his waist. “So how do you like our beach? Does it look the same to you?”
“Exactly, only better. Because now that we’re going to be married, this place seems even more important to me.”
“I feel the same way,” she said. They walked along the shoreline awhile, their arms entwined and their steps in matching rhythm. “I’m so relieved that my parents finally agreed on the inn. Every time I think of it, I’m just ecstatic,” Jennifer said happily.
“I’m relieved, too,” Kyle admitted. “Now if we can only persuade your mother to keep the guest list down. I’m starting to worry that we’re going to end up with a three-ring circus, Jen. You know that’s not what we wanted.”
“Don’t worry. It will be fine. I’ll talk to her about it, I promise. You have to remember, she gave in on the big thing—the inn. So we may have to compromise a little.”
Jennifer felt Kyle’s body tense but he didn’t say anything. Was this the way it was going to be the entire time she was planning the wedding? She hoped not. The last thing she wanted was to be caught in the middle like this, between what her parents wanted and what Kyle wanted.
“The weekend is passing so quickly,” she said. “I feel as if we hardly had any time together. Maybe I should come into Boston next week and we can have dinner one night or work on the apartment. With the wedding so close, we’ll never get to paint.”
“I can hire some painters; that’s not a problem,” Kyle replied quickly. “Listen, I got an e-mail from Ted this morning. He wants me to go down to New York tomorrow to work on that big project I told you about. I’ll be there a few days, maybe even over the weekend.”
So they couldn’t get together this week in Boston, Jennifer realized. “Do you have to stay there on the weekends, too? That doesn’t seem fair.”
Jennifer didn’t mean to complain. But they had so much to do and only five weekends to do everything. You couldn’t count the weekend of the wedding; even she wouldn’t do that.
But she decided not to make a big deal out of this. Kyle was the only one working right now, and his job was important to their future.
“I’m the low man on the ladder right now, so I have to do what the boss says. And look happy about it,” he added in a joking tone. “Besides, being asked to go to the main office is an honor. Even if I could turn it down, I wouldn’t want to.”
“I understand. You have to seem like a team player and all that,” Jennifer agreed. “You’re so smart, I’m sure they need you there. Just make sure you solve all their problems in New York in time for our wedding, okay?”
Kyle laughed and stared into her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll absolutely do that, I promise.”
Then he kissed her hard and swung her around in a circle, right off her feet, splashing with his bare feet in the foam.
Just like he’d done when they were teenagers.
And she knew what he was going to do next, too. “Kyle, put me down!” she called out as he slung her over his shoulder, fireman style.
“Feel like a swim, honey?” he teased over her screams.
“No, I don’t! It’s too cold and this dress can only be dry-cleaned and—”
“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. He carried her back to the dry sand and set her down. Then he collapsed on the sand with an exaggerated grunt. “You feel a little heavier than you did in high school, Jen. I’m not even sure I could still throw you into the water.”
Jen made a face at him but she knew he was still teasing. She was, in fact, quite a bit thinner than she’d been as a teenager.
“Maybe you’re just not as fit as you used to be. You really need to get back to the gym,” she teased back. “I don’t want a flabby hubby on our honeymoon.”
He laughed at her comeback. “Good one. We’re even. Now come over here and let’s look at the water awhile.”
Jennifer gladly joined him, sitting close and snuggling against his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“We’ll always come back to this beach,” she said quietly. “And we’ll always be together and be incredibly happy.”
“Yes, we will. And we will . . . and we will. I promise you,” he replied, answering each of her vows.
“I promise you, too,” Jennifer said solemnly.
She sighed and stared out at the water, the sound of the waves merging with the beat of Kyle’s heart.
Their love was just as limitless, she thought, stretching out in all directions, like the vast ocean and the blue sky above. Filling all the empty places inside her, like the rushing water. Warming her deep to her soul, like the brilliant sun. Lighting every day of her life.
She and Kyle would always be this happy, she promised herself. Always and forever.
CLAIRE and Liza had just finished breakfast Tuesday morning when Daniel tapped on the back door. Liza jumped up to open it. He had been tied up on another job and, though they’d had a few casual conversations on the phone, she hadn’t seen him since their dinner at his house on Saturday night.
“Good morning, ladies. Do I smell pancakes?” He sniffed the air. “Or is that some amazing new perfume you have on, Liza?”
He leaned perilously close to her cheek, waited a moment, then finally kissed her.
She had to laugh. “I’m sure I smell like maple syrup. But that was totally unintentional.”
Claire was standing at the stove, with her back turned. If she had seen the kiss, she didn’t show it.
“Sit down and have a bite, Daniel,” Claire urged him. “There’s a stack left over, just for you.”
“Claire, you talked me into it.” He smiled and took a seat near Liza. “I had to leave the house very early. I only had time for coffee.”
“That’s not healthy, Daniel,” Claire scolded in a motherly tone, “especially with the hard work you do all day.” She set a plate of hot, airily light pancakes on the table in front of him. “No more coffee for you. You need some orange juice first,” she added, bringing him a glassful.
“Wow, what service. Thanks, Claire. You always take care of me.”
“I do what I can, when I can,” Claire said. “You don’t seem to take very good care of yourself. I’m starting to think you need someone on that job full-time,” she hinted broadly. “But that’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s not . . . but thanks for your interest.” Daniel laughed, pretending to look shocked at her pronouncement.
Liza felt her cheeks warm. Daniel must think I tell Claire about my romantic dilemmas, she thought. That wasn’t really the case, though Claire seemed to have a special radar about these things. So no doubt, she’d already guessed what was going on—or not going on—between them.
“I didn’t expect you this morning,” Liza finally managed to say. “You told me you weren’t going to finish with the porch in Cape Light until Wednesday.”
“I’ve got some guys on it. I thought I’d stop here first before I joined them—just to go over some of the items on this list.”
“That’s good,” Liza said, feeling relieved. “Jennifer and her mother will be here this morning to go over weddin
g details.”
He took a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, and Liza could see he had made a lot of notations.
“She wants the grout and any broken bricks out back replaced?”
“That’s what she says. She’s afraid it’s too bumpy and people will trip. Women in high heels, you know. I think if we can figure out how to make it look fresher and smoother, that would be okay,” Liza suggested. “Is there some way to do that?”
“The bricks are probably about one hundred years old or more, so they’re going to have a few lumps and bumps. Patching spots with new bricks will stand out like neon Band-Aids. Maybe we can find antique bricks that would match. Sometimes people save them after they renovate or tear down.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“Not so much, but it’s not easy. You try to replace one and end up cracking two or three more in the process. It’s cement. It’s not like cleaning up the tile in a bathroom.”
“Yes, I see.” Not good news on that one. But Daniel’s dark eyes were so distracting, it was hard to feel that concerned.
He had taken care shaving this morning, she noticed. She longed to touch the smooth line of his cheek and straight, firm jaw.
“Why don’t we go out and look at it, see what we can figure out?” His suggestion broke into her wandering thoughts.
“Good idea,” she said quickly.
Taking their coffee mugs, they went outside to the back of the inn. Liza blinked at the strong sun. It was going to be another warm day; she could feel it. She quickly raised the dark blue market umbrella over a wrought-iron table in order to give them shade.
Daniel set his mug on the table and gazed around the yard. “You did do a lot of work back here. It looks much better, Liza. I didn’t realize you had a green thumb.”
“Neither did I,” she admitted. She stretched out her hands, examining them. “I think I sort of developed it over the weekend, along with all these broken fingernails.”
“A small price to pay,” he told her. “It’s coming along.”
“Thanks, but I still have a way to go.”
She turned from the flower beds to look down at the bricks. The patio was a bit of a mess. Bright green weeds and mossy stuff sprang up between the bricks and lines of cement. She hadn’t had a chance yet to work on that.
“It doesn’t look very good, does it?” she asked him.
“It’s not so bad. You could get those weeds out for a start, then power wash it.”
“That’s a good idea.” Liza sighed. “I never noticed that it was so uneven. But maybe Sylvia thinks people are going to be dancing out here. Molly says I can have a dance floor put down by the tent people.”
“I guess you could. But I can see the charm in dancing here, under the arbor. You can put some little lights up in those vines.” He tilted his head back to look over the wisteria that twined above them on the structure.
“Hey, nice touch. Forget the repairs, you should help me plan the wedding,” she teased him. “I’m going to steal that one.”
“It’s all yours. But I think we ought to test out the theory first.”
“The theory?” She wasn’t sure what he was talking about but noticed an interesting light in his eye as he took a step or two closer.
“We don’t want any of the guests to twist an ankle or fall down out here. Think of your liability. We have to test the bricks for danceability, don’t you think?”
“Danceability?” She smiled at him and was about to answer when he took her hand and slipped his other arm around her waist, sweeping her onto the experimental dance floor.
He was humming a song that she couldn’t identify, but she couldn’t help but dance along. It felt wonderful to be in his embrace, even pretend dancing.
Daniel began another song, a standard wedding-type tune. It was familiar, but Liza couldn’t be bothered to think of the name. She was wondering what it would be like to really dance with him. She was sure she’d just drift off on a cloud. She was nearly drifting off right now.
“Sorry for the humming. I can never remember lyrics,” he confided.
“You’re a pretty good hummer. I don’t mind.”
She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. He was still humming and suddenly stopped, though their bodies still swayed together to notes of music only they could hear. He gazed down at her, and she thought he was about to kiss her. She closed her eyes, her grip tightening on his shoulder.
“Mom, please. Let’s just go back to the front door.”
Liza heard a hushed whisper. Jennifer Bennet’s voice.
Liza’s eyes sprang open and she turned, practically spinning out of Daniel’s embrace.
Sylvia and Jennifer were standing at the gate that opened to the drive. They were early, Liza thought, quickly checking her watch. But not that early.
She had lost track of time.
Chapter Eight
“HI, Liza,” Jennifer said as they came through the gate. “We rang the bell at the front door. But no one answered.”
“Oh, sorry. Claire must be upstairs.”
Liza exchanged greetings with Sylvia, while Sylvia stared curiously at Daniel.
“This is Daniel Merritt,” Liza began the introductions. “He’s doing the renovation on the inn. He’s an expert in old houses and building techniques. Daniel, this is Sylvia and Jennifer Bennet.”
Jennifer smiled and shook his outstretched hand.
Sylvia shook his hand also but didn’t smile. “Really?” she drawled. “I thought you were the dance instructor.”
Jennifer cast her mother an appalled look.
Liza didn’t know what to say, but Daniel seemed amused. “Liza and I were just testing the brickwork as a dance floor,” he explained calmly. “To make sure it’s safe for your guests. I think it will be fine,” he reported. He stepped toward Sylvia and opened his arms. “Would you like a turn? You can see for yourself.”
“No. Thank you.” Sylvia stared at him and shrank back.
Daniel glanced at Liza, looking awfully satisfied. My work is done here, his smile seemed to say.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your wedding plans. I have this list to work on,” he added, waving her list in the air as he grabbed his coffee. “See you later, Liza.”
“Yes, see you.” She gave Sylvia what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “So, shall we get to work?”
Sylvia glanced at her watch. “We don’t have much time. We’re heading into the city this afternoon with Jennifer’s maid of honor, to shop for gowns.”
“That’s exciting.” Liza turned to Jennifer. “Do you have any particular style in mind? There are so many choices. I don’t know how brides can figure it out.”
Before Jennifer could answer, her mother replied. “We’ll have to do it somehow, and in record time. And it will have to be a dress that won’t take too long to order or need too many alterations.” She sat down heavily in a chair, as if she had already been shopping for hours and the quest had exhausted her.
“I have a few pictures from magazines to work with,” Jennifer said mildly. “I just want something simple. Off the shoulder maybe. Not too much going on.”
“She has a perfect figure, so that’s going in our favor,” her mother conceded. “She looks gorgeous in anything she tries on. A burlap sack would probably work out, with a headpiece of some kind.”
Liza couldn’t tell now if Sylvia was being sarcastic or just plain hysterical.
“Great idea, Mom. And my maid of honor could wear a potato sack and the flower girl could wear . . . a flour sack?” Jennifer added.
Sylvia was trying not to laugh, but Jennifer had at least made her smile. “Stop being so silly. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Would you like to sit out here?” Liza suggested. “It’s such a nice day. I can bring out all my notes and some iced tea.”
“That sounds fine,” Sylvia said. “This table looks large enough.” Liza went into the house to fetch her wedding files, unsure of
what Sylvia meant by that. Had she brought along a giant, ten-thousand piece jigsaw puzzle? One with the picture of a royal wedding perhaps?
But when Liza returned with her files and wedding binder, the question was answered. Sylvia had made her own binder, already as thick as a phone book, and there was also a long yellow legal pad with several pages of lists.
Please, no more requests for building improvements, Liza silently prayed. Then she slipped on an invisible suit of armor and stepped out into the arena.
Liza had found a complete, thorough, and well-organized wedding checklist that she wanted to work from. “Shall we start with the number of guests?” Liza began.
“No, I want to start with table settings,” Sylvia said. “Then we can discuss the music.”
So it went. Sylvia’s list had the same items as Liza’s but in a different order, and Sylvia insisted they follow her list. She interrupted Liza and took over the conversation so many times that Liza finally gave up and they worked from Sylvia’s list.
If that makes you happy, fine, Liza said silently, her face locked into an accommodating smile.
More than two hours later, they had worked their way down the items, discussing such essentials as budget, number of guests, the color scheme, and type of flowers. Then there was the type of tent they wanted Liza to rent, the chairs, tables and table settings, and even the type of tablecloths.
The one thing the Bennets agreed on was that Reverend Ben, from the old stone church in Cape Light, would perform the service. As for the rest of it, the possibilities went back and forth between mother and daughter, like a Ping-Pong match.
They each had a clear idea of what they wanted, with Jennifer arguing for simple and Sylvia insisting on elegant—and Sylvia somehow thinking that Liza was the problem.
“Will we get to see a sample tablecloth for approval?” Sylvia asked. “I mean, my idea of pale yellow, Liza, and your idea can be worlds apart.”
Not to mention Jennifer’s idea, Liza thought. Jennifer had already stated that she wanted ivory tablecloths with rose-colored napkins. But what she said was, “Of course, you can.”
The Wedding Promise Page 12
