by Robyn Thomas
Their excitement and boundless enthusiasm had been just as annoying yesterday, but the effect was cumulative.
“That’s enough,” she snapped when her frustration finally boiled over. “Both of you, out. Go on,” she said when they merely exchanged a startled glance. “Go.”
“Now, Beth.” Brad’s supremely reasonable tone reminded her so much of Jake that it hurt.
Jake had spoken like that when he needed her to be calm and rational—he’d done it in the bath the other day, in the Communal Larder van, and on her doorstep when he’d first shown her the article about their engagement. Tiny snippets of conversation flitted through her mind and she needed to be alone so she could dwell on them. If she replayed them often enough they’d remain clear and she’d always have him with her.
The familiar timbre of his voice echoed inside her head and she ached to reach out and touch him. Meet his eyes. Share a smile.
Exchange a heartfelt truth or a teasing remark. But Jake wasn’t here. She was having trouble getting used to that concept, and yet it wasn’t a temporary problem. They’d been apart for three days now, which was as long as they’d been together. And yet it felt like a lifetime.
It wasn’t logical for the loss to feel so gut-wrenching when they’d spent just three days together. But he’d arrived when her emotions had been stripped bare, he’d seen her weaknesses, learned her secrets and boosted her confidence. He’d accepted her quirks, supported and challenged her, and had even lived and worked alongside her, and now he was gone.
He was gone.
A hand touched hers and she jumped, staring at Skyla in confusion. Why couldn’t Brad and Skyla just leave her be? Their wedding would be perfect on Saturday, she’d make sure of it, but right now it wasn’t her top priority.
“Oh sweetie, you’re crying again.”
Certain that Skyla was imagining things, Beth shook her head and blinked rapidly. Several fat tears landed on her arm. She brushed them aside as Ken wandered in and poured two cups of disgusting dripolator coffee, one for him and one for his ever-present clone.
“Can you guys please just go now?” she asked Brad.
“Right-o.” Brad sounded almost cheerful. “A quick game of twenty questions first, though.”
She sent Skyla a help-me-out-here look and got nothing back.
After more than a year of close contact, Skyla couldn’t read her.
It’d taken Jake less than three days.
“Wait a minute.” Skyla grabbed her hand and led her out of earshot. “I want to tell you something.”
“You’re pregnant?” Clamping her hand over her mouth, Beth winced. “I’m sorry, that was supposed to sound a lot more supportive.”
Skyla smiled and dipped her head. “I’m not pregnant.”
Her smile widened and she bounced with excitement. “I have a brother. Three actually, I have three half brothers, but I’ve talked to one of them.”
Beth hugged Skyla, so happy for Jake that she could barely speak. You’re not alone anymore, Famous Man. You have a sister.
“Jake will be relieved that you know. You should talk to him.”
“Does he know? Oh gosh! You know, too. That changes everything. I knew I’d be stuck in a mountain cabin with dial-up Internet for a week, so I took a box of family photos with me.
They were all dusty and jumbled but my mum had hung onto them for years. I was hoping to find a photo of her in her wedding dress, but I found an old journal instead. She never talked about my real father, but I found out that his name is Samuel Olsen.
Olsen, like Jake. I searched for a connection between them and found out that Jake and I have the same father, and that he was already married with three sons when I was conceived. I want to meet Jake face-to-face, and hug him, but I don’t want to cause waves in his family and I’m glad I won’t have to casually drop ‘hey, I’m your half sister’ into the conversation.”
“Jake was reluctant to broach the subject for similar reasons. It’s easier now that you both know.”
Brad’s annoying whistle drew their attention to him and they walked back over to where he was sitting. “You owe me answers to twenty questions, Beth.”
“I’ll give you two. Make them count.”
Brad regarded her closely before continuing. “If you could go back to last week and live it over again, would you rather that Jake knocked on someone else’s door?”
The question was a cryptic one, but she wasn’t up for a puzzle.
“Are you trying to apologize for your role in bringing Jake and me together?”
Shock played over his face. “I didn’t.”
“Yeah, you did. Talking about your ex-wife every other minute makes people suspicious, especially when you’re about to marry someone they…respect.” Skyla smiled at the compliment but speculation radiated out of Brad. Aware of the direction his thoughts had taken, Beth shook her head to let him know there’d never been anything between Skyla and Jake. Holding silent conversations like this one with Brad had always been comforting, but now she wanted to share them with Jake.
Brad looked thoughtful. “What don’t you know about Jakethat you wish you did?”
“Everything.” The stark truth was out before she could stop it, and yet there was no shame in confessing how little she knew about Jake. It was weird to know the most important things and yet not have all the little incidental facts to back them up.
Brad reached for her shoulder but she dodged his hand.
“Everything?” he parroted in a sarcastic tone. “Could you be a little more specific? You seemed quite knowledgeable in that interview you did with him.”
“I’m a fabulous actress,” she snapped, knowing he knew how blatantly untrue that was. “But if I could go back and meet
Jake for the first time all over again I’d want him to bring a note with information about himself. All the worst stuff about living in a fishbowl, and some intensely private things that no one else knows. That way we’d be starting on equal footing because he knows things about me that I haven’t even told you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“So you want a note,” Brad said slowly. He chuckled. “A note.”
…
Beth examined her reflection in the mirrored door of the ship’s cabin and wondered if there was such a thing anymore as her usual self. Every time she saw herself lately, she looked completely different. But she was still the same person she’d been yesterday, a week ago, or last month. Brad’s best friend lurked beneath the soft coil of hair at her nape and the 1920s-style bridesmaid’s dress in a dull shade of beige, and that was the important thing to remember.
Wiggling her hips, she set the fringed hem of her dress in motion and tugged her fitted hat into place. The black cocktail dress she’d intended to wear was the only wedding detail Skyla had vetoed.
“Brad’s paying,” Skyla had said with a grin, “so you might as well get something you like. Something special that makes you want to slip it off the hanger and wear it immediately. Let’s check out the vintage stores online and see if we can find something with a bit of style and movement.”
“Beth!”
“What now?” she asked her reflection before yanking the cabin door open to see what Brad wanted. He often shouted as though the world was ending, but he sounded particularly ticked off at present and she couldn’t imagine what had upset him.
“What?”
“These.” He shoved one of the pretty little order-of-service booklets into her hand. “Do something about them before the guests reach the chapel. The service is in half an hour.”
He walked off before she could say a word, leaving her to stare down at a copy of the program each guest would receive on arrival in the chapel. She noted that both his and Skyla’s names were spelled correctly on the front. The date was right too. Maybe one of the hymns or readings was missing inside? Her heart lodged in her throat when she opened the booklet and Jake’s name leapt out at her.
Had she been so obsessed with Jake that she’d accidentally included his name on Brad and Skyla’s wedding stationery? She’d printed the booklets herself the day before, so substituting Jake’s name for Brad’s wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Scarcely able to believe she’d been so negligent, she made a dash for the chapel. With time at a premium, her first task was to collect all the copies. She was halfway there when the name she’d read sank in.
Jacob Samuel Olsen.
Jacob? Samuel? She couldn’t have substituted those names if she’d tried, because they weren’t familiar. Glued in place, she slowly glanced around, sensing that Jake must be nearby although that was even less likely than what she’d just read. One of the ship’s many crew members eyed her strangely, but there was no one else around.
She slipped her shoes off, since even small heels felt hugely unsafe at present, and let herself out the glass doors onto the lower deck. A stiff wind kicked up the tiny glass beads on her fringed hem and the fresh seaside air chased the cobwebs from her mind. She leaned against the rail and breathed deeply, staring down at the water lapping against the sides of the boat, and took a moment to get her bearings.
With trepidation, she opened the booklet again and forced herself to concentrate on the text inside it. Jacob Samuel Olsen was printed in bold masculine script at the top of the page, followed by his contact details, pages of them, and everything from a detailed physical description to a list of life skills and character traits. But what really caught her attention was a family photo that had, looking at Jake, probably been taken about ten years ago. It was beside a current photo of him and his band. The captions under them read “Before I exposed my father’s affair with Leanna” and “After.” And there was a footnote: “Leanna and her first husband separated shortly after the affair. It’s rumored that she also had an affair with me, and that I was responsible for her divorce.”
That lying bitch! Leanna’s bitterness, her pointed questions and know-it-all attitude, had been nauseating during the interview.
They were worse in retrospect.
Other than his fellow band members, he really didn’t have a family. Anymore. She could easily imagine him trying to right a wrong and having it blow up in his face. His family didn’t even appear to be on speaking terms, yet she’d talked them up in the interview as if they were an integral part of his day-to-day life. It was a wonder he’d allowed her to speak so freely in the first place, let alone walk away from him thinking she’d done him a great favor.
Leanna’s affair with his father had wound up costing Jake his family. If the devastation that’d radiated from him when he’d learned that her mother had just passed away was anything to go by, then the loss was still raw. Clearly his family was off-limits, but he was letting her in, even after she’d blundered through the interview. But why now? Half an hour before Brad’s wedding hardly seemed like an ideal time for secret-sharing.
Her hands were trembling so much she feared she’d drop the booklet overboard, along with the vintage shoes that matched her dress and hat.
“Need a hand?”
Turning awkwardly, her feet just as unsteady as her hands, she stared at Jake. “What are you doing here?”
A faint smile teased the corners of his mouth but it did nothing to lighten the mood between them. “Wedding? Four o’clock? You invited me.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” She held up the revealing order-of-service booklet and shrugged, needing to ask but certain she was about to make a fool of herself. “This is my personal copy, isn’t it? The others don’t have additional pages, they’re just normal, like I planned? Right?”
“Normal. Like you planned.”
Something about the way he said it made her feel ill. It sounded so final, as though he were writing her off and closing the file once and for all. Or abandoning her to her life because there was no place in it for him.
A low rumble sounded and the boat began to ease away from the dock. “Great, we’re moving. If you want to get off, you’d better do it now, or else you’ll be stuck here for the next six hours.”
“I haven’t gotten what I came for yet. Although that nearly nude dress…”
Before she could question him, the glass door from the saloon opened and Brad’s mother bustled out. Knowing what was expected of her, Beth struck a theatrical pose and tilted one hip sharply to the side to set the fringed hem of her dress into motion.
“Skyla helped me choose it. What do you think?”
“You’d make a paper bag look good, and you know it. But enough about you. Give me a look at your young man.”
The startled expression on Jake’s face as he was engulfed in a matronly hug was priceless. When Brad’s mother straightened the handkerchief in his suit coat, Beth had to laugh. It was clear that Jake wasn’t accustomed to being babied by middle-aged women, but to his credit he didn’t make a fuss.
Brad’s mum gave Jake a strict look. “If you’ve still got that ring in your pocket, I suggest you find a way to convince our Beth to put it back on. Don’t just stand there,” she said when he didn’t react, “the clock’s ticking.”
Jake waited for Brad’s mother to head back inside. “If she knows it’s not for real will she still give you the cookbook?”
Beth stifled a sigh of regret, aware that Brad must’ve been meddling for Jake to know all the ins and outs of tonight’s scheduled events. The last bit of hope she’d foolishly clung to disintegrated as she realized he wasn’t interested in them. She wanted him, and all he was offering was a book.
“That’s why you’re here? To help me cheat a woman you don’t even know out of an heirloom cookbook she’s prepared to give in good faith? You’ve wasted your time coming here today.”
She turned away. “I don’t want it enough to stoop that low.”
He curled his hand around her wrist to prevent her from leaving.
“That’s not why I’m here.” She would’ve interrupted, but his fiery look made the words catch in her throat. “You’ve already been married to her son.” He laughed although there was no humor in it. “You and Brad weren’t destined to be more than friends but you’re still a part of their family and always will be, even when you meet somebody new and have a family of your own.” His voice was thicker, as if the words were more difficult now. This wasn’t just about her, it was about him too.
“The damned cookbook’s an heirloom, Beth. You get that and your place in their family is assured. Every time there’s a celebration of any sort, they’ll land on your doorstep.” He let go of her wrist and spread his hands wide. “Guaranteed.”
She stared at him through the tears that welled in her eyes, scarcely able to believe that he’d come here today to secure for her the one thing that was missing from his life—a family.
His profile was his ticket in, a fail-safe way to win her over.
But he wasn’t using it to gain anything, not personally. His family loyalty was secretly with Skyla. He had nothing to gain by charming Brad’s family—except the heirloom cookbook that would be Beth’s after he left.
She touched his forearm and hiked his sleeve up a tad to glimpse his cuff links. “BC,” she said and grinned. “I chose the right arm.”
Without a word, he mirrored her action with the opposite sleeve. The cuff links both read BC.
“It’s a time thing.” He shrugged as if it was nothing, but she noticed he had to clear his throat. “I can keep them till the end of time and take you with me any place I want.”
Wow. Aware that the ball was in her court, she waved the booklet in her hand. “And I can turn up on any of your doorsteps with a suitcase.”
“But you won’t.”
“Not for a temporary stay, no. Will you come back to Melbourne? To see Skyla?” Before he could answer, she tacked on another comment. “If you don’t play the role of my doting fiancé tonight, then the cookbook will eventually go to her.”
His head tilted an acknowledgement. “
I know. But she’s marrying into Brad’s family anyway. This way she gets to land on your doorstep everytime she has something to celebrate, and I know she’ll spend the most memorable moments of her life in your house with you.” He tried for a smile and fell short. “It’s as close as we’ll have to a family tradition.”
“That sounds good in theory,” she murmured, her voice wavering along with her emotions. “But I’d want her to drink cognac at some stage and I know now that’s only going to be possible if you’re around. Besides, having Brad’s family turning up on my doorstep unannounced all the time might not be the best thing.”
His head shook as if he already knew what she about to say.
“It worked for you, but that was before I took up traveling as a hobby.”
“Beth.” The pain in that one word told her everything she needed to know. “Don’t even joke about it. Your whole life is here, it’s always been here, and you can’t pack up your house and everyone you care about and bring them all along on tour.” The regret in his eyes made her heart kick, then falter painfully in her chest.
“You can’t bring them,” he repeated. “And I can’t ask you to leave them behind.”
Replying was a struggle. “You’re not asking. I’m insisting.”
The glass door into the saloon closed with a resounding bang and Brad stood beside it shrugging apologetically. “Sorry for the interruption but most of the guests are seated, Beth. Five minutes, okay?”
She nodded and waited for him to go before puffing out a sigh and meeting Jake’s eyes. “I’ve got to go. I’m going to pop some eyedrops in and retouch my lipstick before checking on Skyla.
I’m so glad you’re here for her wedding. You’re the only family she has.”
Jake rocked her in his arms, his embrace a little too tight for comfort while he absorbed what she’d said. When he released her, she slipped her shoes back on and grinned at him.
“While the ceremony’s in progress you can try to justify the time and expense of flying back to Melbourne five or six times in the next year for various celebrations. And since we’ll be moving around a lot, I won’t be able to get a regular job and contribute financially.” His stunned expression gave her the confidence to carry on as if her whole future wasn’t on the line. “I’ll be doing volunteer work for charity, which isn’t very glamorous, but then neither am I.”
