On the Record- the Complete Collection

by Lee Winter

  Just because Catherine didn’t care if she was disliked, that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate it when she wasn’t. But now…to not only be liked and approved of, but claimed as family, too? It was almost confusing, picking that apart. She had no context for processing any of this. She felt both lost and lighter. Struggling to answer, all she could manage was a murmured “thank you.”

  Meemaw nodded, like it was nothing at all, this offer of real friendship, and began patting her pockets. “Ah. Now, I came to see you, to give you this to wear. It’s a tradition. I wore it at mine.”

  Catherine was wary, a little afraid of what she might produce.

  A fine golden bracelet lay in Meemaw’s palm. “It’s been in our family for generations. It matches a necklace I’m giving Lauren to wear. I hope you’ll both find as much happiness as the women in our family have found over the years.” She slid it around Catherine’s wrist and did up the clasp. Then she straightened. “Oh, Margaret would have loved this.”

  “I’m sorry she can’t be here.” Catherine’s fingertips toyed with the beautiful bracelet. “I would have greatly liked to have met Lauren’s mom.”

  “You’d have made her so pleased, putting such happiness on Lauren’s face. She would have had a few words about being good to her girl, mind.” Her expression became knowing. “But I don’t need to do that, do I?”

  “No.” Catherine straightened. “Never.”

  “Good. Now I’m going to find out how that bride of yours is doing. I’ll send one of the boys in to fetch you when it’s time.”

  “Thank you,” Catherine said. “For everything.”

  Meemaw met her gaze and squeezed her hand. She blinked rapidly, turned, and abruptly left.

  A few minutes later the door opened and shut again. Catherine didn’t have to look up. She’d recognize the soft, slinky footfall of her oldest friend anywhere.

  “So you did it,” Cynthia said. “Got the girl.”

  “I did. Jealous?”

  “Oh, madly.”

  At Catherine’s startled look, Cynthia laughed. “I’m not pining after your Iowan princess, fear not.”

  “Smart move. I’ve inherited some family members who’ll apparently take up the cudgels for me. They’d snap you like a toothpick, which is fair since you resemble one.”

  “Miaow, Catherine.” Cynthia smirked. “I’ve missed you. Missed us. Remember, in our twenties, how we used to terrorize those intellectual midgets in the newsroom? The ones who thought glass ceilings were designed to keep the natural order?”

  “I remember you doing the terrorizing. And I remember me wondering how you did it.”

  “I was the brave one, then. But look at you now. You took a risk. And see where it’s landed you.”

  Catherine searched for the usual sarcastic bite. “Where?” she asked cautiously.

  “With what we both so desperately wanted in our twenties and never had.” She looked uncharacteristically sincere.

  “In love?”

  “Please. I’ve been in and out of love so many times, I can’t remember all their names. Not love, Catherine.” Her expression was intense. “Family. A home in the best sense of the word.”

  “Ah. Not that my gilded cage ever matched what you went through in foster care.”

  Cynthia’s hands came to rest on her shoulders and she met her eye in the mirror. “It’s not a contest. Our childhoods were both atrocious in different ways. I’m glad you struck gold now. Even if she is from this backwater.”

  “Cynthia, can you do me one favor? Try not to antagonize the Kings too much? I don’t think they’ll see scalpel-sharp incisions into their way of life as a form of affection.”

  Her lips twitched. “I make no promises.”

  “Cynthia.”

  “But the Midwest crowd is so easy to bait.”

  Catherine glared. “I like these people. They’re decent, hardworking, and good. I don’t want them hurt.”

  “Fine. I’ll try.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “For you, since it matters so much.”

  “So what about you?” Catherine asked quietly. “I’ve found who I’m meant to be with. Do you think you’ll ever come out? Might actually make you happy for once to be honest about who you love.”

  Cynthia’s lip curled into mockery, even though her expression became wistful. “You’re getting married to an ex-softballer from Iowa. In Iowa. Let’s deal with one moment of madness at a time. Now, shift a little.” She gave Catherine’s head a tiny adjustment and reached for a brush on the dresser. “Let’s see if we can get all traces of flyover state out of your hair.”

  Josh looked very handsome. Lauren told him so more than once while babbling like a crazy woman. He beamed, straightening the collar on her outfit, and put away his make-up kit.

  “So do you, dearheart. Like Hepburn meets Dietrich, but even gayer.”

  She chuckled. “High praise.”

  “I’ll say. So how are you doing?”

  “Nervous.”

  “That’s to be expected. You’re marrying a goddess. I should know—I worship them all, from Garland to Gaga.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel less nervous.”

  “Well, maybe this will help.” He led her over to a tall mirror and showed her the result of all his primping.

  “Oh.” She stared at herself. She did look so…well, elegant. Different. Sleeker. Her ivory satin blouse’s sleeves folded at the cuffs over the navy jacket’s sleeves for dramatic contrast. The top four shirt buttons were undone, allowing a peek of lacy bra underneath. The pants were tailored to highlight her long, lean legs.

  “You have the blue,” Joshua tapped her sleeve, “and Meemaw will be here soon with the borrowed. So kick off those sad heels, girl—I bring you the new.” He pulled out of a bag a pair of exquisite low-cut designer boots with part of the back stylishly cut out. They matched her pants. “Zach sent me the color. I already knew your size after all our shopping sprees together. Best of all, I knew Via Spiga’s newest line would be a dream match.”

  “I love them,” Lauren said after she slipped them on. Josh was right—they were perfect for the outfit. Edgy and chic. “Just beautiful. Thanks, Josh.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  He grinned. “Pleasure, treasure.”

  There was a brisk knock, and Meemaw bustled in, then paused and beamed. “And here’s the other bride.”

  Lauren perked up. “How’s Catherine?”

  “Oh, same as every other bride in history. Like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. She hides it better than most, but I can tell. She does look gorgeous in her dress.”

  Josh stepped back to give her space. Meemaw reached into her pocket and lifted out the thinnest gold necklace. “This was your mother’s. She wore it on her special day. It’s yours now. Matches the bracelet Catherine’s wearing.” She leaned forward and slid it around Lauren’s neck. It settled into the vee of her shirt as though made for it.

  Meemaw gave a slight huff as she fussed over the chain. “Lord, how many buttons are undone here? You’re not for sale.” She did up the bottom button. “There now, much better.”

  A knock sounded, and Mark stuck his head in. “Hey, Laur, we’re all ready and waiting. And the bagpiper’s getting antsy.”

  Lauren froze. “Bagpiper?”

  Meemaw glared at him. “Mark, you’re the best man…” She slid a look at Josh. “Well, one of them. So start acting it. Don’t rile up a bride on her big day with nonsense. Now get out there. We’ll be down soon.”

  “There’s not really a bagpiper, is there?” Lauren asked.

  “Course not. What a notion.” She glanced at Josh. “Young man, could you give my granddaughter and me a few minutes?”

  “Sure thing.” He left the room, closing the door.

  “I’m not one for speeches,” Meemaw
began, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

  Lauren snickered. “Unaccustomed as you are…”

  “Hush, you.” Meemaw waggled a finger, then smiled. “Lauren, dear, I’m so very proud of you. For the young girl you were, who took on so much responsibility, helping raise her brothers. For the woman you are today. I love you, my dear. All my blessings.” She dropped a kiss against her temple.

  “Thanks, Meemaw. I love you, too.”

  “And as for that Catherine of yours, I wasn’t too sure about her when we first met. But I’ve watched the way she talks about you. The way she looks at you. She loves you. You can see that from outer space. You’ve chosen well.”

  “Thanks.” Lauren grinned. “I think so.”

  A wailing sound from below started, that sort of resembled wedding music.

  “Shit!” Meemaw’s head whipped around. “There are bagpipes.”

  Lauren’s eyes widened in astonishment at her cursing. She’d never heard a swear word from her grandmother in her entire life.

  Meemaw flew out of the room, her fleshy arms flapping as she hollered, “Mark Elijah King, what in the blessed Lord’s name is going on down there! What is with that damned racket?”

  Lauren doubled over and laughed hard.

  Chapter 26 –

  Tree of Dreams

  The dreaming tree was glowing with the strings of hundreds of golden fairy lights, and the flickers of jars and jars of fireflies. Two sections of white chairs had been placed in front of the enormous tree, with a grassy aisle between them.

  The smell of spicy sauces and the grill heating up wafted from the tiki bar area behind them.

  Lauren’s father led her down the aisle as a classic tune began its mournful wail.

  “Dad,” she hissed under her breath. “Why’s there a bagpiper? And why’s he playing Amazing Grace at my wedding? It’s the saddest song ever. Plus…hello…bagpipes!”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart.” He gave her a helpless look. “I figured you requested him.”

  Lauren flicked her eyes to the stout, kilt-wearing musician. His red bearded, puffed-out cheeks were round from his exertions. In the distance, from where they were locked up safely in the living room, Boomer and Daisy began a wailing howl to match the maudlin music.

  Snorts of laughter sounded from the crowd. The bagpiper’s ear-splitting wails grew louder, his elbow pumping the bellows harder.

  Right. Lauren was going to kill whichever brother had thought this was a genius idea. Assuming Meemaw hadn’t caught up to Mark when she’d sprinted out after him earlier, looking a lot like a farmer’s wife chasing a chicken with an ax.

  They passed Catherine’s friend, Cynthia, who had lost her customary aloof stare and was laughing so hard that a pair of mascara trails were running from her eyes. On the other side of the aisle, Suze had her fingers shoved in her ears and was wearing an apologetic look. An apologetic guilty look.

  Lauren narrowed her eyes. Suze ducked her head at the sight of her.

  Culprit identified.

  Her brothers were lined up at the front in matching rented suits. Lauren realized they had never gotten around to figuring out which groomsmen would stand where. Mariella was on Lauren’s side, of course, as her matron of honor. But to Lauren’s surprise, she realized Lucas was standing on Catherine’s side.

  He caught her gaze and gave a hesitant smile.

  “He volunteered,” her father whispered in her ear. “Something about doing right by you.”

  Lauren digested that, her ball of anger at her little brother’s actions loosening a little. Well. It was a start. A good one.

  They reached the front, and Josh beamed at her from the middle of the group, where he stood resplendent in his mustard tuxedo jacket, starched eggplant shirt with a black bowtie, and sleek black pants. Somehow, he managed to make the look work. He grinned from ear to ear and then hurriedly signaled to the bagpiper.

  The musician changed to Here Comes the Bride.

  Well, better late than never. Unfortunately, on bagpipes, it sounded like the desperate wail of a funeral dirge dedicated to ten thousand dead Scotsmen. They reached the front, and Lauren twisted her head around to glare at Suze again, who mimed sorry.

  Oh, Lauren was so getting to the bottom of this story.

  Suddenly Lauren didn’t care. Because there, behind her, was Catherine. Backlit by the setting sun, her flowing ivory sheath dress was made of the same silken material and color as Lauren’s shirt. Wow. Zachary was a goddamn superstar.

  Catherine’s auburn hair, radiant under the setting sun, made her look like a fire queen. Lauren’s heart thudded painfully, and she teared up. Gorgeous.

  Her gaze flicked to Tad, leading his aunt up the aisle, looking handsome and proud in his tux.

  Lauren held back the tears until Catherine reached her side.

  “You look beautiful,” Catherine whispered, her eyes soft.

  “God, you, too.” Her smile was watery. “So much.”

  “Dearly beloved,” Josh began. “We gather together in the sight of beautiful family, friends, a glorious dreaming tree, and an unexpected bagpipe…”

  The crowd snickered. The Scotsman huffed.

  Lauren couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. It felt like warmth was filling her from inside out, like sunlight wrapping itself around her heart.

  She was going to marry Catherine Ayers.

  The ceremony flashed by in a blur. Lauren caught only snippets of it. Her dad’s loving look. Her brothers laughing at Josh’s occasional jokes. And Catherine, whose face filled with an expression Lauren had never seen on it before.

  Uneasiness?

  Nervousness?

  She reached for her hand, and found it trembling.

  Josh paused, smiled, and asked them to exchange their vows.

  The trembling intensified.

  At Josh’s expectant nod, Lauren began.

  “Catherine,” she said, facing her. “When I think of the woman I met back in LA, I had no idea who you were. I made a whole bunch of assumptions. And they were all wrong. Piece by piece, you let me really see you. You showed me the things you hide from the world. And I found an intelligent, warm, clever, beautiful woman. I’m honored to be your wife. I vow I will love you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, and until we’re old and gray and you’re still making me laugh with your perfectly wicked wit.”

  Catherine’s smile was fixed, her hands now a constant tremble.

  Joshua turned to her. “Catherine?”

  Lauren clasped her hands tighter, willing her to draw strength from her.

  “Lauren, I know I don’t share myself with anyone except you. I accept I will never be the warmest, most relaxed, or nicest person in any room. But I will be the one who loves you deepest, with all that I am.

  “I remember how it felt when…” Her breath hitched. “I was at my lowest ebb. When I was in such a dark place and I was comfortable there, because there’s nothing left to risk at rock bottom. I had no interest in looking out at the world, at the light.” She stopped, and Lauren soothed her hands with her thumb.

  “But you forced your way in, Lauren, and I’m still not sure how you did that. And one day I looked around and realized it wasn’t the light I could see. It was you. You were the brightness I could see, the warmth I could feel. You were the reason I could face my day. You were more than I deserved. I thank you for being you. I thank your family for giving you to the world.”

  Her gaze slipped from Owen to Meemaw and the brothers. Lauren glanced at them, too.

  Mark was beaming as though about to burst with pride and love. Matthew, John, and Tommy were blinking back tears and pretending hard they weren’t. Lucas looked stunned, as though he’d never seen Catherine before in his life. In a way, he hadn’t. He’d never met the woman Lauren loved, and he’d never believed that
this Catherine even existed. But now he knew. That pleased her in a way she had no words for.

  “Lauren,” Catherine continued. “I am humbled that you love me as I love you. I vow to do so for as long as I draw breath. For as long as you will have me. I simply can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are everything to me. Now and always.”

  Tears flowed down Lauren’s cheeks. She didn’t care. Catherine was all she could think about. She wanted to hold her now and kiss her senseless for making such a vulnerable speech that had clearly been difficult for her. She recalled Catherine’s words from a few days ago. “The hardest thing is to speak about things that lay me open. I always feel too exposed.” Lauren’s heart swelled at the fact Catherine had laid herself bare for her.

  The rings they’d pointed out to Mrs. Potts materialized somehow on their hands as Lauren was lost in soft eyes.

  “So, by the power invested in me by the Church of the Latter-Day Dude—”

  A gasp rippled through the guests, followed by sniggers.

  “—which is totally real and legally recognized in Iowa, don’t worry, I checked twice—”

  The laughter spread.

  “I hereby declare that you are now married. You may both kiss your bride.”

  Lauren immediately pulled Catherine into a heartfelt kiss, as applause and good-natured hooting and whistles started from her brothers.

  “Get a room!” Suze called with a bawdy shout and a hearty laugh.

  “Get an original line!” Cynthia’s distinctive mocking voice called back.

  Suze’s outraged snort was enough to make Lauren break the kiss and laugh. She smiled up at Catherine. “Hey. We’re married,” she whispered.

  “Yes. I noticed that, too.”

  “I loved your vows. I know that was hard for you. Witnesses and all.”

  Catherine exhaled, and a trace of nervousness reappeared in her eyes. “It was…not easy for me. It was also the best gift I could think to give you.”

  Lauren hugged her tight, kissed her temple, then took her wife’s hand to lead her down the aisle.