by Lisa Harris
She took in a deep breath and pushed away the memory. Things were different this time around. The thoughts gnawing at the back of her mind were nothing more than symptoms of her own insecurities.
“Kayla?”
Kayla glanced up at her friend. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“What about this one?” Jenny held up a lacy gown with dozens of white pearls sewn into the bodice.
Kayla pressed her lips together and tried to stay focused on Jenny. Today was her day, and she wasn’t about to put a damper on it because of her own complicated love life. “I like it, though not as much as the one you’re wearing.”
“It’s too simple, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t say that.” Kayla eyed the dress. “It’s only that the last one was too fancy, and the one before that didn’t have enough lace.”
“It’s a bride’s prerogative to change her mind.” Jenny straightened the tiara atop her head and turned to the saleslady whose fixed smile implied she was used to fluttery brides who had no idea what they wanted. “Where’s the one with the pale champagne organza fabric? I’d like to try it on again.”
Kayla browsed through the racks while the saleslady went to look for the dress. “I loved the shimmering champagne-colored dress, but the diamond tiara has to go. Way too gaudy in my opinion.”
Jenny studied her refection in the mirror then wrinkled her nose. “You’re right.”
Still waiting for the salesgirl to return, Kayla perused a nearby aisle before another dress caught her eye. “Look at this one.”
Kayla ran her fingers across the satin material. The fitted bodice featured a U-shaped neckline and pearl accents. Roses and a trail of silver leaves ran down the skirt. If she was the one looking for a wedding dress, this one was close to perfect.
Except, of course, she wasn’t looking.
“You should try it on.”
Kayla’s brow puckered at her friend. “I’m not engaged.”
“You practically are.”
“This is your day.” Kayla studied the detail in the embroidered stitching across the bodice. It was completely different from the one she’d bought a year ago—but then she and Ty were completely different people today.
Jenny nudged Kayla with her elbow. “Try it on.”
“Would you like to try that one as well?” The saleslady appeared behind them.
“No, but my friend would.”
Before Kayla had a chance to argue, the two women steered her into the dressing room. Moments later she stood in front of the mirror, the bodice and slimming waistline fitting to perfection. Small pearls graced the sleeves as well as the bottom edges of the dress.
“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” Kayla could hardly believe her own reflection. Her cheeks were tinged pink, and she looked like a princess who’d just stepped out of the pages of a fairytale book. It took little imagination for her to picture Ty as her knight in shining armor coming to rescue her.
“Now you just have to get Ty to pop the question,” Jenny said.
Reality smacked the air out of Kayla’s lungs. She wanted him to ask her, but life had turned into a complicated muddle of confusion between caring for her mother and running her mom’s business. Keeping up a relationship in the twenty-first century had nothing to do with castles and handsome knights. It had everything to do with honesty and trust.
“Our relationship isn’t as simple as yours and Greg’s.”
“No relationship is simple.” Jenny handed Kayla a gauzy veil with rhinestones and drop pearls surrounding the headpiece, then helped her slip it on.
It was a perfect fit for the dress. “If he does ask, will you be my bridesmaid?”
“You know I will.” Jenny reached around the layers of satin to give Kayla a hug. “He makes you happy. I can’t deny that.”
He’s guilty.
No! Kayla stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to ignore the words that had continued to repeat over and over in her mind. “You’re right. Ty does make me happy. Very happy.”
If that were true, though, why did it sound as if she were trying to convince herself?
Ty rang the doorbell to Kayla’s mother’s house, then took a step back on the wide porch. Six months ago he never would have considered coming to Rosa Marceilo to talk about her daughter. She would have kicked him out in an instant. Today he stood at her front door, ready to wave the white flag if necessary. No matter what her stance, he was determined to do things right this time. And despite the obstacles that still seemed to stand in their way he wasn’t prepared to put off their wedding any longer.
A home nurse opened the door then escorted him into the living room where Mrs. Marceilo sat in a recliner.
“Ty?” While her speech had improved tremendously with therapy, her left arm and leg still hung limp. “Kayla’s not here right now. She—she’s out with Jenny.”
“I know.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets. “I came to see you, actually. Do you have a minute?”
A crooked smile crossed her face. “I’m not going anywhere, and I … I can’t get up to kick you out if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The plump nurse stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “May I get the two of you some tea?”
Mrs. Marceilo nodded. “That would be nice, Hillary. Thank you.”
Ty sat across from Kayla’s mom on the faded blue couch, and it struck him how much Kayla had given up to move in with her mom. The country décor of the living room was a far cry from Kayla’s more traditional tastes. She loved her dark mahogany furniture bought from local auctions, brightly colored wall murals, and shelves filled with books and photos. Most of the pieces she’d collected now sat in storage.
He fiddled with the edges of the embroidered pillow beside him. “How are you feeling?”
“My speech is improving, but I forget what I want to say … half the time. Physical therapy’s a … nightmare, but they’ve tried to … convince me it’s the only way I’ll walk again.” She grasped her limp arm, then let it fall onto her lap.
“Kayla told me they expect a full recovery.”
“P–possibly. I suppose that depends on … on how hard I work.” Mrs. Marceilo repositioned the afghan on her legs. “You … don’t have to bore us both with a bunch of small t–talk, Ty. I’ve never hid the fact I … disliked you, and I’m b–betting you’ve felt the same way.”
Ty stared at the framed quilt hanging on the wall behind Mrs. Marceilo’s head and sent up a prayer for guidance. Apparently his regular visits to the hospital had done little to ease the strain of their relationship. Not that he’d expected to be received like the prodigal son, but something had to be done to ease the tension between them, for Kayla’s sake, if nothing else.
The woman brushed a wisp of auburn hair from her forehead. Despite Kayla’s heavy workload, he knew she managed to fix her mother’s hair every morning, help her dress, and put on her makeup. It was a gift that had helped to build back the woman’s confidence.
She pushed up her glasses and eyed him closely. “Even I have to admit … something’s changed about you.”
Her statement caught him off guard.
“Excuse me?” Ty leaned forward. He’d expected her to continue shooting barbs at him, not handing out hope for a truce.
“The Ty I knew wouldn’t have made … daily visits to see some old woman unless it … unless it somehow fit into his agenda to get … what he wanted.” Her expression softened slightly. “As hard as it is for me to admit … you’ve been there for my daughter.”
Hillary brought in a tray with two cups of tea and a plate of cookies. She held the smaller drink in front of Mrs. Marceilo. “Can you handle this? It’s hot.”
“I’ll be fine, thank you.” Mrs. Marceilo took the cup with her good hand and drew it to her lips.
Ty waited until the nurse had left the room before continuing. “I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, but I love your daughter, Mrs. Marceilo.”
“An
d for whatever reason … she says you make her happy.” Mrs. Marceilo set the tea down and reached for a chocolate chip cookie from the end table beside her. “These are my weakness.”
Ty smiled and took one for himself. “Your daughter makes me happy, too. That’s why I’m here.”
“I had a feeling this … this visit didn’t have anything to do with me.”
He cleared his throat, wondering if the momentary truce would last once he stated his real reason for coming. “I want to ask Kayla to marry me, and I would like your permission.”
A frown appeared on her face, deepened by the droop on her left side. “I don’t recall you taking the time to ask my—my permission the last time you asked her.”
Ty tried to ignore her disapproving gaze, wondering if she enjoyed making him squirm. Christ might have forgiven all his past mistakes, but that didn’t always take away the sting of guilt. Or the burden others placed on him. “There are a lot of things I regret in my past. I want to do it right this time.”
Mrs. Marceilo took another long sip of tea before saying anything. “Three months ago I—I would have thrown you out of the house at this point.”
He noted the slight gleam in her eye. There was no doubt about it. She was enjoying herself.
Ty relaxed a bit. Two could play the game as well as one. “And today?”
“Somehow you’ve managed to convince me … you care about my daughter. And not only … her, I might add, but her decrepit mother as well.”
“I beg to differ with that description.”
“Always the diplomat, aren’t you?” Mrs. Marceilo laughed, but a warning flashed in her eyes. “Don’t ever walk out on her, Ty Lawrence, because if you do, I–I’ll come after you. I won’t have my daughter set up like a … like a trophy on some mantel … then forgotten. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” While he intended to keep his promise, he also took her warning seriously.
“You’d better.” Her hand began to shake, and she set the cup down. “I have to admit … I don’t understand the changes.”
“Or believe them?”
“Not completely.”
Ty rubbed his jaw and prayed for an answer. “Christ, and the sacrifice He made, changed everything for me.”
“That is what Kayla keeps trying to tell me.” Mrs. Marceilo shook her head. “I used to believe … God cared about me. Then my husband left … me alone with a seven-year-old daughter and a trail of grief.”
“I spent a lot of time blaming God for man’s mistakes. Or more often than not, for my mistakes. He does care, Mrs. Marceilo. And so do I.”
Tears pooled in her eyes, but she remained silent.
Ty leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “I’m not one to make promises lightly, Mrs. Marceilo, but I do have one—no, two—that I want you to hear. I promise to take care of your daughter and always put her first. And I also promise to take care of you.”
Mrs. Marceilo blinked away the tears. “I never planned to like you … let alone allow you to marry my daughter.”
And for the first time in a long time, Mrs. Marceilo smiled at him.
Two hours later Ty sat across from Kayla at the small table in the back of the restaurant, wishing he’d chosen a more creative way to propose than over dinner. The soft music and candlelight were nice, but nice couldn’t compete with the first time he asked her to marry him. Sailing around Nantucket Island with caviar and a hired musician wasn’t easy to compete with.
Ty squeezed the lemon into his water, then took a sip. “I visited your mother today.”
“I really appreciate the effort you’ve made with her.” Her smile confirmed the fact that swallowing his pride and talking to her mother had been worth it.
“A box of chocolate truffles now and then goes a long way.”
“I’ll settle for prawns and shrimp tonight. The menu looks divine.”
A pony-tailed waitress approached their table. “Are you ready to order?”
Kayla told the waitress what she wanted, then scooted her chair back from the table. “I’m going to run to the restroom and wash my hands before they bring out the appetizers if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Ty felt for the small velvet box in his sport coat pocket as she walked away and thanked God for second chances.
Kayla pushed her way through the crowded bar, wondering why they couldn’t place the restrooms in a more convenient location for those in the restaurant. The lobby was filled with people waiting to be seated. Four years of waitressing in college made her sympathetic toward the employees who’d go home after closing with sore feet and aching backs. Not that she didn’t still get her fair share of aches and pains after being on her feet all night for a catered event, but it still had to be easier.
Past the bar was a narrow hallway. A woman wearing a black dress and high heels stopped in front of Kayla, blocking her way.
Kayla tried to move past. “Excuse me.”
The woman shoved a lock of thick, dark hair from her shoulder but didn’t move out of the way. “I hope you enjoy the prawns.”
Kayla shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“The chef was guilty of overcooking mine, but you’re a bit of a chef yourself, aren’t you? You understand the challenges of preparing that perfect meal. Especially for such a large crowd.”
Kayla reached up to rub her temple. Her head was beginning to pound from the loud music coming from the bar. “Do I know you?”
“No. But I know a lot about you, and I have a message for your boyfriend.”
“You must have the wrong person.”
“I don’t think so. Tell Ty to watch his back.”
The woman brushed past Kayla, knocking her into the wall. By the time she regained her balance, the woman was lost in the lobby crowd. Apprehension swelled through Kayla’s chest. It was time for her to stop pretending everything was all right in her relationship with Ty. That he hadn’t been involved in something at Abbott Financial Services.
Fear rose in her throat as she hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Stepping up to the sink, she stared at her reflection. Her eyes had dark shadows beneath them from lack of sleep. Her cheeks were flushed, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the warmth of the restaurant or the encounter in the hallway.
She pressed her hands against her chest. Her heart was racing so hard it pounded in her ears. She glanced at her left hand and rubbed the empty space on her finger. She’d hoped Ty was going to ask her to marry him tonight. Her mother had been vague about his visit, but what other reason would he have had to come out to the house to see her mom?
Someone tried the handle, then knocked on the door. Kayla jumped. If it was that woman again …
“Is someone in there?”
“I’m coming.” Kayla splashed water on her face and quickly dabbed it with a paper towel.
The room blurred before her as Kayla walked back to the table. She slipped back into her chair, then pushed the plate of appetizers the waitress had brought while she was gone toward the middle of the table.
Ty reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away. “What’s wrong? You look as if you’ve been crying.”
“I need to get out of here.” She grabbed her purse from the chair and slung it across her shoulder. “You and I need to talk.”
eleven
Ty slammed the car door, then shoved the keys into the ignition in order to start the heater. He still had no idea what he and Kayla were doing sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant—without having eaten dinner—the night he’d planned to ask her to marry him. Somewhere, between ordering shrimp and washing up in the restroom, she’d shoved their entire relationship to the edge of a cliff and left it dangling without any explanation.
He’d planned for tonight to end with her saying yes to his proposal. Instead he looked at her rigid figure beside him. Jaw clenched, lips pressed together, hands clamped tightly … The only other time he remembered her being this ir
ate was the night she called off their engagement. Acid churned in his stomach as he gripped the steering wheel. That wasn’t going to happen again. He wouldn’t let it.
He popped the peppermint he’d grabbed on the way out of the restaurant into his mouth, then fiddled with the plastic wrapper. “What’s going on, Kayla?”
She folded her arms across her chest, still staring straight ahead. “Why didn’t you tell me the government is investigating you in connection with Abbott Financial Services?”
Her words struck like a sledgehammer against his chest, and he fought to catch his breath. “I—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it mattered. I’m innocent.”
The moment the words were out, he realized he’d said the wrong thing. Negating the situation also negated the importance of her in his life and his need for her. But that wasn’t true. All he’d ever wanted to do was protect her, to protect their relationship.
He cleared his throat and hunted for an explanation that would make sense. “I—”
“You didn’t think it mattered?” Her voice rose a notch. “Of course it matters. How can we have a relationship based on trust when you won’t talk to me about things that affect your life?”
“Kayla, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to drag you into it.”
“No.” She turned to him, her eyes flashing with anger beneath the white light of a street lamp. “You didn’t think I’d let you back into my life with a possible indictment hanging over you.”
Her words pinned him against the wall and condemned him in one fatal swoop. But there was more involved. Hadn’t he wanted to protect her? “It’s complicated, Kayla.”
“I don’t care how complicated things are. You should’ve told me.”
He drew in a ragged breath. Trying to protect her was nothing more than an excuse. He’d ignored the Spirit’s nudging to tell her the truth, and now he was paying for his own foolishness. “You’re right. I was afraid I’d lose you. I didn’t want you to think I’d been involved in anything illegal, to give you any reason not to trust me.”
