Least Likely Wedding?

by Patricia McLinn

  The sun was low on the horizon when they brought the boat in. Max and Suz arrived as Rob was securing it. Annette, Steve and Nell followed almost immediately. They brought a medium-size reddish-brown puppy with white markings of indeterminate breed by the name of Pansy. Nell and Pansy made a beeline for Chester. Wagging tails set Kay’s worries to rest about the dogs.

  “How was the lake?” Suz asked.

  “Fabulous. You must be out on the water all the time.”

  “We mostly look at it from the porch swing.” Max put an arm around Suz’s shoulders. “Hope you’re hungry. We’re starting dinner.”

  “That’s so nice of you. Thank you, but—”

  “Great. It’s all set,” Suz interrupted. “Annette brought salad, and there’ll be steaks and baked potato, nothing fancy, and I made brownies last night for dessert.”

  “But I didn’t bring anything.”

  “That’s the idea. With all the work we’re getting out of you, the least we can do is feed you now and then.”

  Kay joined the general laughter. “Thank you, that would be great, if you let me bring something the next time. Oh— I could bring Miriam Jenkins’s potato surprise. She told me about it at the meeting and she’s going to give me the recipe.”

  “Oh, my God. I thought that recipe would die with her.”

  “Some of us hoped.” Max said, drawing chuckles.

  Kay looked around in surprise. “I thought it sounded wonderful. Like scalloped potatoes gone wild.”

  “It’s a matter of overfamiliarity.” Annette exchanged a look with her brother. “We’ve had it at every function for decades—including breakfasts.”

  “She must really have taken to you, to give you the potato surprise recipe,” Steve said.

  “I’m going to teach her to make mobiles.” Kay deliberately did not look at Rob. “I like teaching even more than doing, and she’s excited to learn.”

  “Ah, that explains it. Miriam’s pride wouldn’t let her ask as a favor, but she’s feeling the pinch since her retirement fund lost money by investing in one of those companies with crooked execs.”

  Annette nodded. “Poor Miriam, wanting to learn but with money so tight—what a dilemma. I’m glad you two worked out an exchange.”

  “Who’s dull Emma?” Nell asked as she ran up, the dogs following.

  Annette got it first. “Not dull Emma. Dilemma. D-i-l-e-m-m-a,” she spelled out for Nell. “It means needing to make a choice between two things when you don’t like either one. Remember, we talked about the expression, between a rock and a hard place?” Nell nodded. “That’s a dilemma.”

  “Oh.” Satisfied, Nell darted off with the dogs.

  Annette said to Kay, “Nell sometimes has interesting takes on words. We’re trying to spell words and clarify any confusion.”

  “When she was little, I told her I was going to a conference in Miami, and she interpreted that as meaning it was mine,” Steve said. “She told everyone that I was going to Daddy’s-ami.”

  “My favorite was when she lit into Lana about the dip,” Max said.

  Steve burst out laughing. “That’s right. My mother mentioned clam dip being on the menu for an event, and Nell thought it was lamb dip—and she gave her grandmother hell.” Still smiling, he called, “C’mon, Nell. Time to wash up for dinner.”

  The girl sprinted past the strolling adults, then spun around to Kay. “Don’t forget, we’re finger-painting tomorrow.”

  Steve sighed. “I hope Nell didn’t corner you into this, Kay.”

  “I really should work on ideas for the opening.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Rob said. “Nell made me responsible for getting you there tomorrow, and I’m not taking the rap if you don’t show up.”

  “Hiding behind a woman to protect you from a kid?” Steve teased.

  “Damn straight.”

  “Actually, it’s a good strategy,” Nell’s father said.

  They all laughed.

  Kay was glad to see Rob laugh. There’d been something… A look, a shadow she’d caught a couple of times while they were out on the lake.

  He’d been so at home there, moving with the boat the way she’d seen excellent riders move with a horse. When she’d sailed with any of her parents’ friends they’d seemed to view the event as a three-way wrestling match involving themselves, the boat and nature, and they were grimly determined to beat the hell out of their two opponents. Rob had an alliance with his boat, and together, they drew what they needed from nature, seeking the wind, skimming the water.

  “C’mon, let’s get dinner.” Max led the way.

  Rob put his hand to the small of her back as they walked. A companionable gesture only. That was the only logical explanation.

  Kay’s cell phone rang as she put Chester’s food bowl down.

  Her heart lurched. Wait. It couldn’t be about Chester because she hadn’t put her cell number on the fliers. It rang again and her heart bucked at a new possibility.

  “Hello.” Did she sound as breathless as she felt?

  “Kay? Kay Aaronson? It’s Serge.”

  The air came out of her in a whoosh. Serge. The producer who’d given her the job to shoot an 1899 wedding. It seemed far away already. “Hi, Serge. How are you?”

  “Fine, fine. I just looked over what you sent me.”

  She tried to listen as he discussed the framing and structure of shot sequences. But it was hard to listen while she was telling herself how stupid she was to have thought it might be Rob. He’d just left, for heaven’s sake.

  “I won’t know for sure until I start working with the footage next month,” Serge said, “but it looks good.”

  Those words cut through her distraction.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be in from the coast in the next month, so we’ll do lunch and—”

  “Sorry, Serge. I won’t be in New York until after mid-October.”

  “Oh? Off to Europe with Mommy and Daddy?”

  She heard the slice of scorn in that reference. She heard it a lot when people alluded to her family. Almost as much as the patina of envy.

  “No, still in Tobias, Wisconsin.”

  “Wisconsin? Why? Another shoot?”

  Suspicion colored his questions. Suspicion, and the sound of a bargain hunter who feared another shopper had spotted his great deal.

  Kay switched the phone to her other ear.

  Her work had been good enough that Serge didn’t want someone else to scoop her up until he’d gotten more work at bargain basement rates.

  “Not a music video,” she said, purposely elusive. “Another job.”

  “Ah. Well, I suppose you’ve got to eat.” He laughed heartily at his joke that Kay Aaronson would have to worry about money. Something about that plucked at her thoughts, but she didn’t have time to pin it down before he continued. “But with guidance and a lot of hard work you might make it. Got to pay your dues, you know.”

  “If there’s no other choice,” she quipped.

  He chuckled. “I like your attitude, kid. And if this footage works out, I might have another assignment for you down the road. No promises. And you’d have to be in New York, or here on the coast.”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, good. I’ll be in touch.”

  She held the cell phone a long time after the call ended.

  She’d finally captured what had nagged at her when he displayed his attitude about her family money—nobody in Tobias had shown any interest in it, much less envy or scorn.

  But mostly she considered the odd fact that if Serge had dangled a lunch a month ago she would have met him anywhere, anytime. Yet just now, she’d never given a thought to going to New York to be available for the possible lunch, because it would mean dropping everything in Tobias.

  At the Dalton house the next morning, Fran met Kay and Rob as they crossed the lawn from the drive.

  “This is a great house.” Kay looked at the two-story frame house that managed t
o be both solid and graceful. A family home. Was it possible to be made to feel inadequate by a house? She produced a sly smile. “The kind of house that should have a dog in it.”

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Rob said. “Besides, it’s not my house. It’s Fran’s.”

  “It’s as much yours as mine,” his sister said.

  “We’ve settled this, Fran. The house is yours.”

  Fran grimaced, and Kay knew that issue wasn’t settled at all.

  From the porch, Nell called. “We’re gonna have easels, right, Fran?”

  “Yes. Rob needs to get them down, though. They’re in the attic room. Rob knows where they are.”

  He looked from Fran to Kay and back. Almost as if he were worried about leaving her alone with his sister. “I’ll be right back.”

  The porch door smacked closed behind him.

  “Have you spent time in a town like Tobias before, Kay?” Fran asked as they strolled toward the porch.

  “Is there another town like Tobias?”

  “It’s just a small town,” Rob’s sister said in her calm way. But under the calm, Kay heard concern. “A nice one, but still, a small town. You’ve always lived in the city, is that right?”

  “Yes. A lifelong New Yorker.”

  “Ah.”

  Kay thought she knew what was behind that syllable.

  “I know Ro—the committee wasn’t happy with my first suggestions, but I am teachable, and if I still haven’t got it with my next round of ideas, I’m sure the committee will show me where I went wrong.”

  That won the tiniest of smiles. “We should have given you a crash course in Tobias first. It wasn’t fair to throw you in. I’m not worried at all about your ideas for the opening.”

  “What are you worried about then?”

  Fran glanced away. “That’s direct.”

  “Saves time.”

  “I suppose that’s something you’ve learned living in New York.”

  “That’s what’s bothering you? That I’m from New York?”

  Was it so obvious to Rob’s sister that Kay didn’t fit in in a place where everyone said hello, took you in like they knew you and counted family and friends most important?

  “Not that you’re from New York. That you’re going back there. Soon, but maybe not soon enough.”

  Kay opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. All that came out was “Oh.”

  “I’m trying not to butt in, I really am. And I like you. It’s just…Rob’s been through a rough time this past year and a half. Janice—that’s his ex-wife. Ah, I see you know that. Anyway, she didn’t give him a clue. Sprung it on him that she’d made a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. And only when he raised the issue of starting a family. My brother likes to think his head rules all his decisions, but I can see that this divorce is still hurting him deeply.”

  “Fran, it’s not… It’s not going to be a big deal for Rob when I leave. He’s going to be relieved—believe me.”

  “I suspect Rob would tell me the same thing. And I don’t have that much experience with relationships, but I’ve seen your faces.”

  Kay produced a laugh. “Probably indigestion. Seriously, Fran, I swear Rob’s more attached to Chester than to me. He thinks I’m a flake. We barely have enough in common to talk about Tobias and Chester and how he used to be a financial analyst and—”

  “Used to be?” Fran’s forehead wrinkled. “Oh, you mean because he’s here this summer? He’s on a leave of absence. He’s supposed to be having a long, lazy summer, though you wouldn’t know it from the way he works at Bliss House and here. He needed a break. Especially after the divorce.”

  “But I thought…”

  “I know, I know. He still has that white band where his wedding ring was. That was self-defense. Because he was still wearing the ring when word seeped out about the divorce not even Tobias’s nosiest had the nerve to ask to his face. By the time he took it off, it was old news.”

  “Thanks for clearing that up. I guess I misunderstood.”

  But she hadn’t.

  Rob had definitely put his days of being a financial analyst in the past tense. Yet Fran said he still held that job and she seemed to attribute everything gnawing at Rob to the divorce. Kay knew down to her bones that there was something besides the divorce, the “big thing” she’d asked him about and he’d sidestepped.

  There was something Rob wasn’t telling her, although they’d just met, so who could blame him? But was he keeping secrets from his sister, too? Why?

  From a spot beyond the open window in the family room and out of their line of sight, Rob watched Kay clip paper to a well-used wooden easel.

  “You know how to do this,” Nell said with approval.

  “Yes, I do,” Kay said. “It’s one of the things I learned in my grandmother’s art studio.”

  “But you don’t do it anymore.”

  “No.” And if Rob could distill all the emotions in those two letters he might know Kay Aaronson right down to her soul.

  Nell nodded. “Because of your grandmother.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Grandmothers don’t like messes. And no matter how careful you are, there’s mess when you paint.”

  Kay shook her head. “My grandmother didn’t mind my mess, as long as I tried.”

  “Humph. Then why don’t you go to her studio anymore?”

  “We grew apart.”

  Nell tipped her head. “I don’t mind being apart from my grandmother. But Annette says I should look for good things in her. So I try. She has a good cook. Mrs. Grier makes great waffles and brownies. Oh, I like red,” Nell added, dipping her fingers into the pot and swirling it onto the paper.

  Kay tilted her head at her blank paper, took a healthy load of yellow onto her fingers, and the two worked in companionable silence.

  “Now this makes sense,” Nell said with satisfaction.

  “What does?”

  “Finger painting.”

  “Ah, because you paint with your fingers and it’s called finger painting?”

  Rob was impressed. He could spot the logic of Nell’s comments in retrospect, but never immediately.

  Nell nodded. “And because you paint your fingers.”

  Kay looked at her hands and laughed. “True.”

  “It’s not like when I told Dad and Annette that I want a sister.”

  “Oh?” Kay made a curve of brown through the yellow and the shape of a familiar head was born.

  “Yeah. That didn’t make sense. I said I wanted a sister, but I’d take a brother, as long as there’s a baby fast, and they started talking about syllables.”

  “Syllables?”

  “Yeah, they said I had to wait and see if I got a syllable.”

  Kay half stifled a snort. “Could your parents have said you’d have to wait to see if you got a sibling? A sibling is a brother or sister.”

  “Huh.” Nell scalloped green across her paper. “I better tell Dad and Annette that I didn’t know that because I don’t have any.”

  Nell stepped back and gave Kay’s sheet a critical assessment, her head tipped, her eyes narrowed. “That’s Chester.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You’re pretty good at this.”

  “Thank you,” Kay responded in an equally grave tone. “So are you.”

  “I like a lot of colors. Some kids at school only use one color. Like they’re afraid of getting more on their hands.”

  Kay shook her head in sympathetic disbelief. “They’re missing out.”

  “Yeah. Like my grandmother. Have you been to her house? It’s all white.”

  “Well, that is a style.”

  “That’s what Miss Trudi said.”

  “Miss Trudi’s pretty smart.”

  “Yeah, even if she does like opera.” The girl shook her head. “All that singing.”

  Kay coughed this time. Recovered, she said, “Miss Trudi’s been helping kids for a long time. Did you know she taught my gran
dmother art and helped her the way she helps you—finding books, exploring new interests. Even when Dora moved away, they stayed friends.”

  “People shouldn’t go away,” Nell said darkly.

  “Sometimes they have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Uh, well, for college for instance.”

  “Uncle Max isn’t going away, but he’s going back to college.”

  “That doesn’t work for everybody. And adults’ jobs can take them away. Or there can be problems between people. Or responsibilities someplace else can make a person leave. Or they might have been only visiting.”

  Interesting that she hadn’t suggested that one first.

  “Those things shouldn’t make somebody go away,” Nell said. “That stinks.”

  “You’re right. Sometimes it does stink.”

  “You did very well,” Rob said.

  “You like it?” Kay looked at her finger-painted rendition of Chester’s head. “It’s been a long time, and I’m not sure I got the ears right.”

  “You got them right. It’s amazing. But I was referring to your conversation with Nell.”

  “Eavesdropping?”

  “You bet.”

  “Did you catch that part about syllables?” Kay chuckled. “She’s amazing, and terrifying.”

  “Because she’s got her eye on the Oscar and the Nobel Prize?”

  “No, I understand a varied résumé.” She slanted him a look, then sobered. “Mostly because she’s a kid. The responsibility for what you put into her head is awesome. I admire Annette for raising a stepdaughter—and especially for how she’s doing it.”

  “Annette is a great mom. You would be, too.”

  “I’m not sure I make a decent adult yet.” She shook off wistfulness and rallied. “Besides, who says I’m ready to settle down? My biological clock hasn’t even been wound yet. Oh, gosh, look at the time, Rob. I need to get to Bliss House to meet with people who’ll be selling crafts.”

  “I’ll give you a ride.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “Need has nothing to do with it. I thought I’d take you to the library later. There’s an archive of old photographs that—”

  “Thanks, Rob. But I’m going to spend the afternoon working on ideas. After I make calls to check on apartments in Manhattan.”