Still laughing, Abby turned around to look at her sister and Tucker. Most of the bakery workers had long since moved out of the line of fire to avoid getting splattered. Carol and Tucker were the only people on their side of the room and Carol’s face was so red and blotchy she might have just run a mile. Her hands were curled into fists down at her sides, like a kid about to throw a tantrum.
“Maybe you just need a piece of cake,” Abby said. And before she knew what was happening, the last piece of cake flew through the air and smacked Carol in the chest.
Noah and Tucker looked shocked. Abby let out a nervous giggle. This was exactly the type of shenanigan her sister normally enjoyed. Food fights, paint fights, splashing fights, pillow fights. When it came to mayhem of this variety, Carol was almost always the instigator. Only now she didn’t look that amused.
“You . . . ,” Carol said slowly, on the verge of total eruption. “You are the worst maid of honor ever!”
Abby’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Carol—”
“Forget it,” Carol said. “Come on, Tucker. Let’s go.”
Then she turned around and stormed out of the kitchen, and Tucker, after shooting Abby an apologetic look, followed. Abby was left with her mouth hanging open, covered in ten kinds of icing.
Slowly, Noah stood up from behind the counter he’d been using for protection. He looked at Abby sympathetically, apologetically—his deep blue eyes uncharacteristically serious. And even though Abby’s insides were tied in guilty knots, something happened within her chest. She looked at Noah and her heart responded. It thumped like it wanted out. Or like it wanted to pull her over to him by force.
Icing was a good look for Noah. A really good look.
Noah lifted the corner of his apron and wiped a streak of pink icing from her cheek. Excited tingles ran all down her face, into her neck and straight down to her toes.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said, taking an instinctive step back like she always did when she felt that zip of attraction for him.
Was she just imagining it, or was he looking at her differently? Looking at her like maybe he felt it too? Maybe it was just the glob of white icing across his forehead, but his eyes were so blue. And they were staring right at her.
“I’m out of cake,” Noah said, misinterpreting her step back as a battle defense.
Abby laughed and it came out as a snort, which made Noah laugh as well.
“So. Carol was pretty angry,” Noah said.
“Yeah,” Abby said as icing dried to her face. “Apparently I’m the worst maid of honor . . . ever.”
She looked at Noah and suddenly she couldn’t take it anymore. She burst out laughing and took him right with her. Before long they were both clutching their stomachs, gasping for breath, with tears streaming down their faces.
“I’m the worst maid of honor ever!” Abby cheered, throwing her arms in the air. Noah and the bakery workers shouted and clapped. Abby swiped a blob of chocolate off her chest and held it up. “Here’s to me!” she said, and sucked it off her finger.
Noah grinned at her, and Abby could have sworn there was real admiration in his eyes. Things were about to get a lot more interesting.
• 8 •
Forsaking All Others
“I thought you two were gonna strangle each other,” Noah said, half an hour into their postwar cleanup. He crossed to the sink to rinse out an icing-covered rag and Abby followed.
“Yeah . . . we haven’t fought like this since we were kids,” she said. She leaned back into the table and pushed a curl behind her ear. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Separation anxiety, probably,” Noah said. He wrung out the rag and hung it over the faucet. “I mean, once she’s married, she’s probably gonna move, right?”
Abby’s heart squeezed unexpectedly and painfully. She knew Carol was leaving, but she hadn’t really allowed herself to think much about what would actually happen after the wedding. The pure insanity of the event itself, of her parents’ reaction to it and Carol’s Bridezilla status, were upsetting enough. What would life be like when Carol was gone? When she wasn’t just an hour away by car? When actual plane tickets would have to be purchased and Abby would have to go through eighteen security checkpoints at the airport just to get to her?
“So, what? We’re fighting because we’re never going to see each other again?” Abby asked.
“You’re not never going to see each other again,” Noah said in a soothing voice. “You’re just fighting because the idea of being far apart is stressing you out. It’s like a defense mechanism. If you fight you can pretend to yourselves that you don’t like each other and then you won’t miss each other so much.”
“What are you, a psychologist all of a sudden?”
“Yeah. That’ll be a hundred bucks,” Noah said. Abby laughed. “All I’m saying is, maybe you should keep that in mind before you freak out again. Things are crazy right now, but when it’s all over Carol’s going to be happily married and you’re going to have a new brother-in-law.”
Abby looked at the floor. She still couldn’t figure out what to make of Tucker Robb. He seemed like Mr. Perfect most of the time, being genuinely polite to everyone and making Carol ridiculously happy. But what was the odd behavior about? Was Tucker up to something evil or was Abby just imagining it because of this whole upcoming separation thing?
“What?” Noah asked. He leaned back against the table next to her, his arm brushed hers and she flushed.
“It’s just . . . Tucker . . .”
“Still don’t like the guy, huh?”
“I heard him on the phone,” Abby said, biting her lip. “He was talking with some girl named Melissa . . . begging her for another chance or something. I don’t know.”
The details of the conversation had been fading in Abby’s mind and she was starting to get that too-far-from-the-incident doubt. Like maybe she had imagined the whole thing.
“You listened in on his phone call?”
“No! You make it sound like I picked up the line!” Abby said. “I just overheard him.”
“Ah,” Noah said, nodding.
“So? What should I do? Should I tell Carol?” Abby asked. “I mean, I sort of tried to start telling her but she totally flipped as soon as I mentioned Tucker’s name so—”
“No. Don’t tell Carol,” Noah said. He stood up straight and faced her so she could look at his perfect blue eyes again. “At least not until you know more.”
Abby blinked and stood up herself. “So . . . what? I should spy on him?”
“No, freakshow, you should not spy on him,” Noah said. “If you’re really concerned about it, talk to the guy. You’re probably jumping to conclusions, and if he really loves your sister he’ll appreciate the fact that you cared enough to ask.”
Noah’s speech brought Abby back to earth in more ways than one. First of all, as often seemed to be the case, Noah was right. Tucker was the person to go to. Now that he’d mentioned it, it seemed like such an obvious thing to do. If there was a logical explanation, she would avoid getting her sister all worked up over nothing. If there wasn’t a logical explanation, Abby could make Tucker fess up himself, which he should do anyway.
Secondly, Noah had just called her freakshow. Not that this was out of the ordinary. It was perfectly within the realms of normal. But it made it painfully clear what she’d already known to begin with—Noah’s attraction to her did not exist. She’d so wanted to believe Christopher, and she’d so wanted a distraction from this wedding mess that she’d let herself be convinced of something that was so clearly not true. She felt her face flush just thinking about how ridiculous she’d been to even consider that he might. Obviously to him she was still just annoying little Abby Beaumont from the Dove’s Roost. And that’s all she’d ever be.
Abby walked into her house, closed the door behind her and sighed. She felt like she’d been run over by a truck, no, by a wedding-mobile. Between th
e fight with her sister, worrying about Tucker, the wedding planning and the Noah confusion, she felt as if she were losing her mind. And she was beyond exhausted.
She trudged into the kitchen and paused. There, spread out across the kitchen table, were a dozen eight-by-ten black and white photos of Carol and Tucker. Engagement photos, clearly. Abby grimaced at the sight of the two of them, grinning for the camera. In the worst of the set, their foreheads were touching, but their faces were turned at a slight angle toward the camera and they both had these sexy sort of smirks on their faces. Like they were thinking about what they were going to do back in their bedroom after the photo shoot.
“Make me vomit,” Abby said. She just couldn’t escape no matter what she did. She gathered up all the pictures and placed them facedown in a pile.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs announced Carol’s near arrival. All the muscles in Abby’s body tensed. The light flicked on and Carol stopped in the doorway at the sight of Abby standing there.
“Hey,” Carol said.
“Hey.”
“Abby, look, I don’t want to get into a whole emotional thing right now. I’m just too tired,” Carol said.
“Me too,” Abby replied.
“But I have to ask you, what was all that about today?” Carol said. “It can’t all be about the dress and I know it’s not about cake.”
Abby blinked, surprised by tears that suddenly prickled at her eyes. “Can we not do this right now?”
“No. Abby, clearly something’s bothering you,” Carol said firmly. “What is it? What?”
“Carol,” Abby said, her heart full. “I just—”
“Abby, what?”
“You’re leaving, all right?” Abby blurted out. “You’re leaving and you’re going to Colorado and you’re leaving me here all by myself and you’re— you’re happy about it!”
Whoa. Where did that come from? Abby thought.
“Wow,” Carol said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Is that really how you feel?”
“I—I don’t know,” Abby said. She took a deep breath and sat down across from Carol, her knees quaking. “I was just so looking forward to you coming home and spending the whole summer with you and then you show up and you tell me you’re leaving for some guy I don’t even know. It just . . .”
“Sucked,” Carol supplied.
Abby smiled wanly. “Yeah. Kind of.”
“Wow,” Carol said again, looking dazed. “I’m sorry. I guess I never thought of it that way. From your perspective, I mean.”
“Yeah, well, why would you? You’ve got a lot of other things on your mind.”
Carol sat forward and looked Abby in the eye. “But you have to know that I’m not happy to be moving away from you,” Carol said. “I’m happy to be getting married, but I’m not happy that we’re going to be so far apart.”
So stay, Abby thought, but knew she couldn’t say it.
“I know,” she said instead.
“And no matter where I live we’re always going to be sisters,” Carol said. “We’re always going to be friends, right?”
Abby had to strain to hold the tears back. She was going to miss Carol so much it hurt already and she was still right in front of her. “Right,” Abby said.
“We’ll just have to get second jobs to deal with the long-distance bills,” Carol joked.
“Ooh! Maybe we can get Mom and Dad to spring for nationwide cell plans!”
“Now you’re thinking!” Carol said with a smile. They looked at each other for a moment and Abby felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow. Relief because she had gotten a big chunk of how she was feeling off her chest. Sorrow because Carol was still going to go.
“You know what? You can pick out your dress,” Carol said finally. “I made a promise and I shouldn’t have gone back on it.”
“Seriously?” Abby asked, surprised.
“Yeah. Just make it blue, okay?” Carol said. “That way it’ll at least match Tessa and Missy’s dresses. You’re cool with blue, right?”
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with blue,” Abby replied with a big smile.
“Good,” Carol said, getting up. “Now c’mere. I know you hate the mushy stuff, but you’re getting a hug right now.”
Abby quite willingly stood and let Carol wrap her up in her arms. She squeezed back tightly and closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry about the cake fight,” she said over her sister’s shoulder. “And for calling you selfish. I mean, you are the bride, right?”
“God, it’s still weird to think that,” Carol said, pulling back. “I’m a bride.”
Abby swallowed back a tight feeling in her throat. Her sister was a bride. And that meant Abby had to stop thinking that everything bride-related was evil. Because Carol was definitely not evil.
“Okay, I’m going to go get the CDs out of my car,” Carol said. “You’re gonna burn them tomorrow, right?”
Abby smiled. Carol had decided to give out mixed CDs as a wedding favor. She’d put Abby in charge of making them. “Yep,” Abby said. “I’m on it.”
Carol slipped out and Abby stood there for a moment, looking at the closed door. What would it really be like when there was no possibility of Carol coming through it? Of her surprising them all by joining them for dinner? Of her calling Abby up to go on an impromptu shopping spree in Boston?
Abby felt her chest tighten involuntarily. She stood up straight, rolled her shoulders back and resolved not to wallow. From this moment on she was going to be glad for her sister. She would do everything she could to help her have an amazing wedding. If she was going to send Carol off to Colorado, she was going to send her off happy.
A few hours later Abby was studying for her English final when she realized she had never eaten dinner. Carol and Tucker had gone out to eat with some friends in Boston and had just returned a few minutes ago. Her parents had been working the Stevenson–Hallgren wedding all night.
Stevenson–Hallgren, Abby thought, sitting up on her bed. Oooh. They were going to have chicken parmesan, weren’t they?
The very thought of Rocco’s sauce made her stomach grumble. Abby laid her book aside and headed downstairs to pilfer some of the leftovers. All the lights were off in the residence, but Abby could still hear the sounds of washing and cleaning coming from the catering kitchen in the Roost. She opened the door at the far end of the living room, which led her to the back hallway of the Dove’s Roost Chateau. She was walking by her mother’s office when she heard something that made her heart seize up. Was her mother in there . . . crying?
Abby leaned back to peek around the open door. And there was her mom, sitting in her chair with her fingertips pressed to her mouth, tears streaking down her face. For a moment Abby was frozen by shock. Her mother was always bursting into happy tears for brides and grooms, but this was different. This was scary.
“Mom?” Abby said uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”
Her mother looked up, surprised, and quickly wiped her face with both hands. “I didn’t think anybody was home.” She picked up her pen and pulled her chair closer to her desk.
“Mom, you’re crying,” Abby said. She took a couple of steps into the dim room. The only light came from the soft bulb in the lamp on the desk. “What happened?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” her mother said, shaking her head. She didn’t look up. “It’s just . . . your father.”
A shot of fear slammed through Abby’s chest. “Dad?”
“We had a fight,” Abby’s mother said, writing rapidly. “It’s just . . . sometimes, Abby, I think that man doesn’t understand me at all.”
“Mom, come on,” Abby said with a forced laugh. “You guys are . . . you. You’re always finishing each other’s sentences. He understands you, trust me.”
Abby’s mother took a deep breath and shook her head again, then continued to write. Abby didn’t like this at all.
“What did you fight about?” she asked.
“He wants nouvel
le cuisine at the cocktail hour.” Abby’s mother finally looked at her, wide-eyed. “Can you believe that? He won’t budge an inch about it.”
“Wait a minute. That’s what this is about? You’re this upset over Carol’s hors d’oeuvres?”
“It’s not just that, Abby,” her mother said firmly. “That’s just an example. It’s a symptom.”
“A symptom of what?” This was just too much. Her parents couldn’t be this crazed over a wedding. Weren’t adults supposed to be the rational ones?
Her mother sighed. “You wouldn’t understand because you’ve never been in a relationship,” she said, grabbing her pen again. “Wait until you’re older and have had more life experience. Then you’ll know what I mean.”
Abby clenched her jaw. This argument was making her ill. She hated when adults acted so adult, like there were certain feelings a person could only have over age thirty, and anyone younger just couldn’t comprehend. Abby was trying to help and her mother was dismissing her like she was eight. Meanwhile she was the one getting in a fight over pigs in blankets.
Abby took a deep breath. Part of her wanted to protest, but more of her wanted her mom to stop crying. Act like an adult here, Abby, she told herself. Someone needs to.
“Anything I can do?”
“I don’t think so,” her mother said. “But thanks for asking.”
“Okay,” Abby said, turning around slowly. “See you in the morning?”
“Sure, honey.”
Abby walked out, feeling numb. Forget dinner— suddenly she’d lost her appetite. When she got upstairs, she glanced out the back window and saw her father sitting on one of the stone benches, hanging his head.
“I’m never getting married,” Abby muttered. “Never ever ever.”
She was about to open the door to her room when she heard Tucker’s voice, once again coming from the bathroom. Abby froze. She remembered her talk with Noah, about how confronting Tucker was the best option. But now that she was home and he was here, her usual fear of the fight overcame her. So she needed more information? Well, here was her chance to get some.
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