Marrying the Wedding Crasher

by Melinda Curtis

  Vince gripped her hand tighter as he tried to process what his mother was saying.

  “I’ve been thinking about you boys. Jerry asked me to marry him.” She waited to see if Vince would say something. When he didn’t, she sighed. “I said no. I do love him, but I’m not the trophy wife he should have.”

  She was just like Harley, holding herself to unrealistic standards. “Who are you to judge what Jerry wants? If he loves you...” Vince stopped himself from finishing the thought.

  If Jerry declared his love for Vince’s mother, he had to know what he was in for. Jerry knew about her past and he loved her anyway. He trusted their love would take care of any bumps in the road in the future.

  Just like Harley had offered to do with Vince.

  Vince couldn’t advise his mother to trust in love if he couldn’t do so himself. He wanted to move past his fears. He wanted his mother to move past her fears.

  Mom stared at Jerry with love in her eyes. “How long have you been in Houston?”

  “More than a decade.”

  Her gaze snapped back to Vince. “And yet, you never approached me before?” She leaned forward, those blue eyes demanding an answer. “Why now?”

  Vince had planned to mention Joe’s upcoming nuptials. Instead he blurted, “I’m going to be a father.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing, when, in fact, it’s a gift.” Her eyes saw too much, more than Vince wanted to let on. “Ah. You took my words to heart about being ill like your father.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t in a good place. I suppose neither of us was that day.” She stared out the window at Jerry sitting with his feet in the pool surrounded by grandchildren he spoiled with love. “I can’t take those wedding vows again. I can’t trust myself not to break them.” She reached for Vince’s hand once more. “But you can. You can be the father yours wasn’t capable of being.”

  Vince had a feeling it might be too late for that. “I said some pretty horrible things to Harley. I don’t think she’ll take me back.”

  “Do you love her?”

  He didn’t hesitate. He nodded. “Too much.”

  “You can never love too much. You are like your father, you know.” Mom released him. “In the ways that count. He was an honorable man, so determined to do what was right. You’ll win her back. She and the baby will need you. You, of all people, know how hard it is to raise a child alone.”

  He’d been so determined not to try, if only because he might be a danger to Harley and the baby. Visiting his mother gave him hope.

  “You need to marry Jerry. He’s a good man, too.” But so were the others. Dave from the oil rig. Warren from the heating and air-conditioning company. Tim from the marina. “If you love him, that is.”

  “I do.” Her gaze roamed the photos behind her desk. “He’s the only man I’ve dated since your father who I can see myself growing old with. He doesn’t judge me for my past. He values me for who I am today.”

  Vince could only hope that Harley had it in her heart to do the same thing.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  VINCE WASN’T COMING BACK.

  Two days had passed. It was time to face facts.

  Harley sat up in bed unsure if she was out of sorts due to morning sickness or heartache.

  At least when the mayor’d had a negative knee-jerk reaction to being a father, he’d fought his way back into his wife’s good graces.

  If only Harley and Vince had been married before this happened.

  Harley patted her tummy. “I would never blame you, little one.”

  Still, she couldn’t find it in her heart to blame Vince, either. She understood him too well. But understanding and missing were two different things.

  Harley approached Gabe during breakfast about finding tile for Joe and Brit’s master shower.

  “I need something to do so I don’t sit around and focus on how I feel.” Overall, the morning sickness was more manageable now that she was eating like a pregnant woman with a picky digestive tract. No greasy food. No rich food. No sugary food.

  She’d finished the sketches for the town council yesterday morning. She’d been bored yesterday afternoon.

  “You could maybe find a new date for the wedding,” Gabe said with a twinkle in his eye. “You’d have a great time with me, if you weren’t in love with my brother. Why, we could even get married.”

  Harley refused to take Gabe seriously. Making sure Reggie wasn’t around, she whispered, “You should ask Reggie to be your date.”

  His fork splashed in his syrup-filled plate. “Reggie hates me.”

  “Hate is such a strong word.” Harley smiled. “Go find me some tile.”

  “Your wish is my command,” said Gabe, the miracle worker, returned his attention to the plate of syrup-drenched waffles.

  Harley walked to the bakery, enjoying the mild, dry weather.

  Conversation ground to a halt when she entered Martin’s. Apparently a Messina baby was just as noteworthy as an adult Messina.

  “Any word from Vince?”

  “Is he coming back for the wedding?”

  “Does she look like she’s showing?”

  “No. She looks like she’s glowing.”

  “I wish.” Harley stepped up to the counter.

  “The usual?” Tracy was on duty this morning. Her short blond hair was as perky as her smile.

  Perkiness was an enviable quality nowadays, at least to Harley.

  “Green tea and carrots,” Harley confirmed. The bakery kept baby carrots and peeled apple slices in stock for younger patrons. “To go.” She planned to walk the river. Maybe she’d get lucky and find something Brit could use in her sculpture.

  “I think she’s showing,” someone said behind her.

  Harley sucked in her gut and hunched her shoulders to minimize her breast size.

  “She’s not showing,” Tracy chastised. “But she is glowing.”

  “That Messina boy will regret it if he doesn’t come back for her.”

  “If he comes back for the wedding, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “You can’t spare more than a small piece, Georgia.”

  Harley made her escape amid peals of laughter.

  Next, Harley stopped by Phil’s, which was where Brit worked. Phil’s used to be the town barber shop. Now it catered to the female crowd.

  The day was just beginning, but the bride-to-be was elbow-deep in perms and old ladies under hair dryers. Phil was busy, as well, applying color to an older woman’s hair.

  Rose sat in the waiting area, tapping her feet. She looked like she was ready for safari in khaki walking shorts and a zebra-print blouse. On the wall above her, a metal mermaid swam above an antique bicycle. “I’m debating a color change.” Rose waved Harley over. “What do you think of red?”

  “Your hair is lovely as is,” Brit interjected. She wore silver tights beneath a shimmery silver dress.

  Phil wore a traditional barber’s white smock. His hands shook as he painted an auburn tint on the woman’s short hair. No one seemed to mind the tremor. Phil was rumored to be a whiz at mixing hair colors. “I’ve been told I can’t color your hair.”

  “Poppycock and nonsense.” Rose stood, not a white hair in her tight chignon out of place. “Every woman should be a redhead once in her life.” She looked to Harley for agreement.

  Harley raised her hands. “My mother always said, ‘Hair color is like a good pair of shoes. Once you find a pair that fits, you stick with them.’”

  “We should put that on the wall somewhere.” Brit whisked the drape from Mrs. Edelman’s neck. “All done.”

  “Darn.” Vince’s third-grade teacher eyed Harley. “I wanted to hear the news about Vince.”

  “No news,” Harley said a tad less than good-naturedly. Did everyon
e have to ask about Vince? “He’s still AWOL.” He hadn’t answered her text from a few days ago asking if he was okay. “I’m here to ask Brit if I can tile her master bathroom. That is, if Gabe finds tile.”

  “Are you redoing the bathroom here?” Mrs. Edelman counted out bills to pay Brit. “It’s more gas station than spa, if you ask me.”

  “No one asked you, Carly,” Phil snapped. “Things are fine here as is.”

  “It’s for our house.” Brit swept Mrs. Edelman’s gray hair on the floor into a dustpan. “Yes, I’d love you to do it, Harley, but you’ll have to ask Joe, too.”

  Rats. She’d been avoiding Joe, aka the Vince Hater.

  The front door flung open. Irwin stepped in. He wore a tan sports coat, khakis and a blue pinstriped bow tie. He carried a bouquet of daisies and looked like his white comb-over had been treated with too much hair gel.

  Gabe stood outside on the sidewalk, watching intently. He had an up-to-something smile on his face.

  “Rose!” Irwin shouted above the whirring hair dryers.

  “Yes?” Rose turned to face him, as did four other elderly women.

  Irwin froze. And not the hesitation or pause kind of freezing. This was the choking kind of freezing.

  Harley waved at Gabe and pressed a hand to her throat, letting Gabe know his dating prodigy was crashing and burning.

  Sans grin, Gabe pushed the glass door open a crack and whispered, “Irwin, like we practiced.”

  Irwin nodded. Eyes wide. He swallowed and said less confidently and at a lower volume, “Rose?”

  “Yes?” Rose arched a white brow.

  Irwin sucked in air like a dying air compressor. “Bemydateforthewedding?” The question tumbled out of Irwin’s mouth like one long strung-together word.

  “Please,” Gabe whispered through the crack in the door.

  “Please,” Irwin added dutifully, thrusting the daisies toward her.

  All eyes swiveled to Rose, who stood silently.

  “Rose,” Gabe whispered. “Say yes.”

  Rose suddenly seemed to come back to her senses. Or perhaps not, because she said simply, “Yes!”

  The shop erupted in applause.

  “Idiot,” Phil mumbled, but he was smiling.

  “That was romantic. Now...are you going to take Vince back?” Mrs. Edelman sat in her walker near Harley. “He was the kindest boy. I know he’ll return to rescue you.”

  Harley wasn’t holding her breath. At first, she’d thought he’d left for Cloverdale or somewhere else nearby to cool down. Now she suspected he’d gone back to Texas. Besides, he’d been banned from the wedding. Joe still refused to talk about him. “I’m not sure I need rescuing.”

  Funny how just saying the words aloud reinforced what she’d been trying to tell herself. She was going to be okay.

  “We’re still trying to adopt Harley ourselves.” Brit checked the curlers on a woman under the dryer, and then ushered another elderly client into her chair. “What does she need Vince for?”

  Love, comfort, stability. Cold nights in the winter. Someone to help me breathe in the delivery room.

  Sadly, Harley’s list could go on and on.

  Irwin was still standing in the midst of the shop.

  “Kiss her cheek.” Gabe was still standing at the crack in the door.

  Irwin darted toward Rose, raised up on his toes—because she was taller than he was—and pecked her cheek like a chicken going for seed. And then he practically ran out the door and into Gabe’s arms.

  “Idiot,” Phil said, louder this time.

  There was laughter and mention of phone trees.

  “Oh, Harley, dear...” Rose carried her bouquet two-handed, like a bride. “I forgot to tell you that yesterday Mayor Larry found an architect interested in your ideas for the theater.”

  “That was fast.” And a little depressing. Someone else would be attempting to bring her balconies to life. It was bad enough that Dan was ecstatic back in Houston because the mechanical engineers had been thrilled with Vince’s solution. Well, not exactly bad. Dan had torn up her contract, accepting her offer to own the rights to the balcony design in Texas.

  Harley made polite mention of how happy she was for Rose and the mayor. That, at least, was true.

  “You know, this architect was wondering if you’d be interested in an apprenticeship.” Rose showed her bouquet to Mrs. Edelman. “I told him you were having a baby and moving on.”

  “She should consider working from home,” Mrs. Edelman said firmly. “So you can raise your baby and provide for yourselves.”

  “You should get out before they start planning the rest of your life.” Brit tilted her head toward the door.

  Before Harley could make her exit, Sarah entered the shop. “Harley!” She charged forward and hugged Harley the way she’d hugged Vince, sans the pinch. “We should have drinks or dinner or something to commiserate.” She smiled at Brit’s patrons each in turn. “We both got dumped by Vince.”

  “The way I heard tell,” Mrs. Edelman said primly, “you dumped Vince for Gabe, who dumped you.”

  “Oh, semantics.” Sarah’s smile didn’t waver. “We both got dumped by a Messina.”

  Harley didn’t think that was anything to celebrate. She hurried out the door and headed for the garage.

  House painters had taped off the ranch house windows and doors and were starting up the paint sprayer. Gabe and Irwin had wheeled the riding mower out to the parking lot. Irwin had taken off his sports jacket and tie.

  “Harley!” Gabe grinned and got down on one knee. “Are you overcome with Irwin’s display of romance? Did you come to hear my proposal again? Unlike my brother, I’m willing to beg you to marry me.”

  “The intent is much appreciated, but the answer will always be no.” Harley peered into the service bays. “Is Joe around?”

  “He’s underneath Agnes’s Buick.” Irwin pointed toward the left bay.

  “What do you want with Joe?” Gabe got to his feet and blinked, as if he’d gotten a head rush.

  “We need to ask him if I can tile their bathroom.” At Gabe’s eye-roll, Harley added, “Brit’s orders.”

  “Good thing I haven’t started on that request yet.” Gabe returned to the mower. “We’re going to take the mower on a test drive first.”

  “And see how fast it’ll go.” Irwin was clearly enamored with speed.

  And the riding mower was probably just his speed.

  The painters were giving the ranch house a soft shade of blue. It wouldn’t matter what color they painted it. The house would still be boxy and plain, unless...

  “Gabe, do you think you can find shutters for those front windows?”

  He laid a hand on his chest. “I can find anything, anywhere.”

  “Shutters would be great. I’ll let you know if the man in charge approves tile.”

  “He better.” Gabe turned the key in the mower ignition. It clicked but didn’t start. He poked around the engine, much the same as Vince had done a week ago to Harley’s truck engine. “Brit wants it. And you know what they say. Happy wife, happy life.”

  Harley entered the garage. “Hey, Joe. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” Joe slid out from underneath the green Buick on what looked like a man-size red skateboard.

  “I need a huge favor.” On her way over, she’d come up with a plan. “I’m bored to tears. Help a girl out, will you? I’d love to do the tile in your master bathroom.”

  Sam rolled out from under the Toyota in the right service bay. “Holy smokes, Dad. She must think you were born yesterday.”

  Joe chuckled.

  “Hey.” Harley pretended to be deeply offended. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Mine. My shower is done.” Sam rolled back underneath the Toyota.

  Joe reached for a bott
le of water and took a drink. “Harley, you know how I feel about freebies. We pay our way around here.”

  Backup plan number one. “That’s fine. You can pay me.” Harley hoped her tone wasn’t too casual. “I’ll bill you when I get back to Texas.”

  A few days ago, before she knew Joe, she’d have looked at him and thought how much he looked like Vince. But Vince’s features were a bit more pronounced, less tame. And the dark eyes. They went better with that devilish Messina smile.

  Joe shook his head. “Messina’s pay their own way. This is nonnegotiable. Besides, that much tile isn’t in our budget until next month. Maybe the month after that.”

  Backup plan number two. “But Gabe will be gone by then, right? Where will you get the supplies from?”

  “Brit is perfectly capable of negotiating a lower price.”

  “Just not as low as Gabe, I bet.”

  Joe hesitated in their back-and-forth. “We’ve got to get through this wedding without going broke, buy Sam back-to-school clothes—”

  “Thanks, Dad!”

  “—and then we can finish the house.”

  And for the third and final backup plan... “And you’ll be asking your new bride to live in the apartment upstairs, which is very très chic. Kind of...the-furniture-no-one-wanted-at-a-garage-sale chic.” She paused to let that sink in. “Or you could let Gabe work his magic—with receipts, of course—and do this girl a solid so she doesn’t get bored sitting around waiting for her flight to leave, and you can get moved into that lovely remodel of yours that much sooner.”

  Joe’s mouth worked.

  “Hey.” Sam rolled out from under the Toyota again. “Think carefully before you delay my school clothes shopping in any way.”

  Joe’s mouth worked, all right. It worked into a smile. “You have plenty of clothes. Didn’t we just take you bra shopping a couple of months ago?”

  “Dad!” Sam shot to her feet, wiping her hands with a blue rag. “Why would you say that? Gah! Parents are just so...so...impossible!” She disappeared into the sales office. Her feet pounded the stairs and then doors slammed above them.