by Sarra Cannon
So why do I feel defeated?
Someone knocks on the door, and I quickly swipe my fingers under my eyes. “Come in,” I say.
“Hey, how’s it going in here?” Penny asks. “Are you doing okay?”
She hands me a glass of champagne, and I practically down the entire glass.
I shake my head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I say. “I told myself I wasn’t going to let her control this day the way she’s controlled every other part of this wedding planning so far, but maybe she’s right. Maybe this isn’t a good dress for the church. What do you think?”
“I think you should get the dress you want to get,” she says. “Screw your mom and the church and what anyone else wants. This is your wedding day, Leigh Anne. Yours, not hers.”
I frown. “I know, but—”
“No buts, seriously,” Penny says. “I’m sorry to say this to you on a day when you’re supposed to be the center of attention, but you have got to start standing up for yourself.”
Her words catch me off-guard, and my mouth falls open.
“Look, believe me when I say I completely understand how hard it is to navigate the dangerous, shark-filled waters of trying to live up to everyone’s expectations of you,” she says. “I’ve had to live with that burden my entire life, and when it comes to our parents, it’s particularly hard. I understand that. But it wasn’t until I ran away from everything to be with Mason that I realized nothing else matters. You are never going to make your mother happy, Leigh Anne. You have to start thinking about what makes you happy.”
“Why does that feel so complicated?” I ask. “And selfish?”
“Because your entire life, your mother has made you feel selfish for every single decision you ever made that wasn’t in line with what she wanted for you.”
Her words hit me like a truck. I don’t know if it’s the rush of the champagne or the realization that she’s right, but I suddenly feel like I’m going to pass out.
I wobble on my feet, and Penny grabs my hand. “Are you okay?”
“I need to sit down,” I say.
She helps me into one of the chairs that line the far wall of the dressing room and kneels by my side.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset, sweetie,” she says. “I’m sorry. Shit, I messed up. I was just trying—”
“It isn’t your fault,” I say. “You’re right. About all of it. Any time I’ve ever made a decision that didn’t line up with what she wanted, she’s made me feel awful about it. Like I’m disappointing her to her core by being selfish. Why did I never see that before?”
My heart slams against my ribs, and I struggle for breath. The dress feels constrictive all of a sudden.
“Can you unzip this dress?” I ask. “Hurry.”
She sets down the glass of champagne and quickly works to loosen the dress. I pull it from my shoulders and take a series of short, forced breaths.
“Do you need some water? I can get Amanda,” she says.
“No,” I say, grabbing her hand. “I just want you to sit with me for a second, okay?”
“Of course,” she says. She sits on the floor at my feet and rests her head against my knees.
We sit in silence for a while as I catch my breath and think about everything she said to me. I can’t believe I never realized this before, and I feel like a fool. I look around at the ball gowns hanging all around us, and I’m overwhelmed by the thought of how much I’ve let my mother decide my life up until this moment.
I’ve let her bully me into nearly every major decision, and when I did manage to stand up for what I truly wanted, I let her make me feel guilty for it. Selfish.
“When I was a little girl, I thought I wanted to wear a dress like that one,” I say, pointing to the dress on the hanger in front of us. The one with the flowers on the bodice. “I dreamed of looking like a princess and walking down the aisle of that church where I grew up.”
“I remember,” Penny says, laughing. “Lord knows you talked about it enough. Of course, back then you thought you’d be marrying my brother.”
I smile and swipe at a tear on my cheek. “I’m sure my mother would be much happier if that was still happening,” I say. “She can’t seem to see that I’ve changed.”
I take a deep breath.
“Sometimes I think the hardest part of growing up is learning to let go of those old dreams we had for ourselves,” I say. “And the dreams others had for us. I love my life exactly how it is, so why can’t I just let it go and move on? Why can’t I just let myself be happy? I don’t understand why this all has to be so difficult.”
Penny sits up and puts her hand on mine. “Because you don’t think you deserve it,” she says simply. “But you do, Leigh Anne. You deserve whatever life you want. Don’t let anyone, including your mother, sway you from that or think you can’t have it.”
“I really want this dress,” I say, touching the fabric of the dress that’s still hanging half-on, half-off my body. “Do you think they’d kick me out of church if I wore it to the wedding?”
She smiles. “I doubt it, but think of it this way,” she says. “If they do, you’ll have the most talked about wedding in the history of this town.”
I laugh and stand up, pulling my friend into a hug. “Thank you,” I whisper in her ear.
“You’re welcome,” she says. She pulls away and stares into my eyes. “You deserve to be happy, Leigh Anne. It’s your choice whether to let what she says bother you or not.”
Someone knocks on the door, and Amanda peeks in through a crack. “Everything okay in here, ladies?” she says. “Are you ready to try on the next dress?”
I pull the white dress back over my shoulders and look in the mirror one more time. This is the dress I was meant to wear when I marry Knox, and I just know it deep in my heart. But there’s still a part of me that’s not willing to disappoint my mother.
“I think we’re done for the day,” I say. “Do you mind if we come back again in a few weeks? I need some time to think about it.”
“Of course not,” Amanda says. “I’ll make a list of all the dresses you tried on and you can just set up another appointment when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” I say.
They leave me alone in the dressing room, and when I’m settled back in my own clothes, I feel the weight of my future hanging in the air like a dense fog.
All I have ever wanted is to make everyone around me happy, but Penny is right. If I don’t start truly standing up for my own happiness—choosing to be happy—what kind of future will I have?
Chapter Seventeen
The restaurant is incredibly busy tonight, and I love the energy of the crowd. I’m really impressed with everything Jo has accomplished in such a short time. When she first broke ground on the new addition, I was worried she was biting off a bit more than she could chew, what with her father’s illness and putting together a menu, all while managing the renovations.
But she’s flourishing in this new environment, and her happiness is contagious.
The bar itself still gets visits from our regulars, and I think Jo did a good job of keeping the bar area a little bit separate from the main part of the restaurant. We stop serving food in the main area around ten every night, but the bar still stays open until midnight on weeknights and two on the weekends.
We also have a better stage now for live music, and I’m looking forward to Mason’s band playing again this Friday night. The crowd really comes out to see them, and it’s fun to watch them gain new fans every time they play.
“What time do you get off tonight, sexy?” Leigh Anne leans over the bar top and raises an eyebrow.
I lean in, too, closing the distance between us until our faces are nearly touching. “That depends on what you had in mind,” I say.
“A movie. A couple glasses of wine. A fire,” she says. “And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you get to second base.”
“You really are the sexiest woman I
’ve ever seen,” I say. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately, but from the looks of it, we aren’t exactly getting off early tonight. I can’t believe how busy it is here.”
She frowns. “I know. I’m happy that the new place is doing such great business, but I miss you,” she says. “We’ve barely had any time to just sit and be together lately.”
“How about this,” I say, grabbing a bottle of her favorite pinot noir from behind the bar. “You head home as soon as your shift is over at ten, pick out a good movie, open up this bottle and start yourself off with a nice glass, and I promise to leave here a little bit early and be home by midnight.”
“Are you sure you aren’t too tired to stay up and watch a movie?” she asks. “What do you have going on tomorrow?”
“Nothing I can’t move to another day. You?”
She smiles. “I have absolutely nothing to do tomorrow.”
“It’s a date, then,” I say, leaning closer to kiss her. “We can stay up as late as we want and sleep in as long as we want tomorrow. Maybe take the boat out on the river, if you want.”
“That sounds amazing,” she says. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Okay, have fun,” she says. She pulls her apron off and disappears into the kitchen.
A few minutes later, she blows me a kiss as she exits through the back door of the restaurant toward her car.
Things at the bar pick up a little now that the restaurant has closed, which only makes the time fly by faster. Before I know it, it’s a quarter to midnight, so I go in search of Jo. I find her in the office counting money from today’s shift.
“Hey, you,” she says. “What’s up?”
“I think I’m about to hit the road. Do you mind closing up the bar for me? I’d really like to get home and spend some time with my girl,” I say.
“Not at all. I really appreciate you both stepping in to help around here,” she says. She runs a hand through her hair, and lets out a long sigh. “I promise it won’t be like this forever. I probably need to find about five more good servers, and I know we need another bartender or two. I just want to find the right type of people who are going to do a good job for me. It’s a lot to manage.”
“Don’t worry about it for a second,” I say. “You know we’re happy to help. I can interview some bartenders, too, if you want.”
She sighs and looks around at the mess of papers and bills on her desk. “That would be a real help. I’m telling you, running a larger business is so much more work than I thought it would be,” she says. “I figured it wouldn’t really be that much different from the bar, but I underestimated the time it would take to figure out the food orders, pay all the extra bills, count up the money and the receipts. It’s a lot of work.”
“I thought Penny was helping you with the books,” I say as she locks up the office and walks into the bar.
“She is, but there’s still so much that needs to be done before I can pass things over to her,” she says. “What I really need is to hire a full-time manager. It’s just too much for me to handle.”
“Do you have the money to hire someone?” I ask. “How are things going with the budget?”
“It’s incredible,” she says, smiling. She leans in and whispers. “We are making more than I could have imagined. I’ve already made most of the renovation budget back.”
“In just a couple weeks?” I ask. I knew the restaurant was doing well, but I had no idea they were doing that well.
“We’ve been packed for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for both weeks, and then last weekend’s live music nights brought in twice what they used to before we opened the addition,” she says. “I can’t believe I was so nervous about the whole thing. I mean, I realize that things will probably slow down a little bit once it’s not such a new thing in town, but so far, I think people really like the food and want to come back.”
I put my arm around my cousin. “Of course they do,” I say. “I’ve been telling you this for years.”
“I should have listened sooner,” she says. “I really don’t know how to thank you for pulling us out of debt a few years back and for moving home to help us stay on our feet. I’m going to pay you back, okay? I promise.”
“Don’t worry about any of that,” I say. “You’re family, and I would do anything for you guys. Just promise me you’ll agree to cater the wedding.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” she says. She holds up a hand and backs towards the kitchen. “I can’t believe I almost forgot. Wait here one second.”
She disappears through the doorway and comes back a few minutes later with a couple of large to-go bags full of small cake boxes.
“What in the world is this?” I ask as she hands them to me.
“Cake samples,” she says. “I know you guys haven’t officially asked me to do the wedding cake yet, but consider this my audition. And if there are any other flavors you want to try, just let me know and I’ll whip them up for you.”
“This is incredible,” I say. “And of course we want you to make the cake.”
“How are all the plans going, by the way?” she asks.
I shrug. “It’s a bit frustrating, to be honest,” I say.
“You guys aren’t having problems, are you?” She looks concerned.
“No, not between us,” I say. “It’s her parents. I swear to you, those people are determined to make this whole thing a nightmare. They’re probably hoping that if they give us enough grief, we’ll call the whole thing off.”
Jo shakes her head. “They’re still being a pain about it? What’s going on?”
I lean toward her. “I haven’t told anyone about this, but a few weeks ago, her father asked me to go play golf with him,” I say. Jo makes a face, and I nod. “I know, I know. It’s not exactly my sport, right? But I was willing to compromise to help bring us closer. Leigh Anne said it was his way of extending an olive branch.”
Jo groans, which is exactly how I feel about the whole thing.
“Instead, he spent the whole time trying to convince me we were making a huge mistake,” I say. “They really don’t want their little girl marrying me, but what they don’t seem to understand is that she’s not a little girl anymore.”
“What did Leigh Anne have to say about that?” she asks.
“I didn’t have the heart to tell her,” I say. “I just told her everything went fine, but just between you and me, her parents are driving me crazy.”
“You have to just do your best to ignore them,” Jo says. “They’re assholes.”
“Well, those assholes are going to be my in-laws,” I say. “And Leigh Anne loves them with all her heart. She’ll do just about anything to make them happy, including sacrificing her own happiness in the process. It’s not an easy thing to watch, and this wedding is really bringing it all out on the table.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Jo says.
“How do you mean?” I ask. To me, there’s nothing good about watching Leigh Anne suffer and stress over every detail her mother wants to change about the wedding.
“Maybe it will make Leigh Anne realize the truth about her parents,” Jo says.
“I’m not holding my breath on that,” I say. “I’m just hoping we can get through this in one piece. The wedding itself doesn’t matter to me nearly as much as the life we live after the wedding. That means I have to find a way to get into her parents’ good graces somehow, even if it kills me.”
“You’re a good man, Knox,” she says. “If they don’t love you just as you are, that’s their problem. And if they don’t want you to marry Leigh Anne, then you fight for her. You do whatever it takes to hold onto what you guys have.”
I nod. I know she’s right, but it’s a lot more complicated than I ever thought it would be. I just want us to be happy together, but the thought of spending our whole lives catering to her parents’ every need is exhausting.
“Well, I need
to get home to Leigh Anne, but thanks again for the cakes,” I say. “I’ll let you know which one we like best.”
I lean down and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, Jo,” I say. “And just so you know, I’m really proud of you.”
“Thank you,” she says, her proud gaze moving over the crowded bar. “Anyway, you better get moving. You’re going to be late.”
“I think I already am, but I’ll make it up to her,” I say.
She covers her ears and backs away. “I don’t want to hear how you plan to do that. Get out of here before I make you stay and clean something.”
I laugh and wave to a couple of friends at the end of the bar as I head out to my truck. It only takes me about ten minutes to get out to the house, but I’m a good fifteen minutes late getting home.
I half-expect to find her asleep on the couch like so many other nights when I’ve gotten home from the bar late, but instead, I’m greeted with the sound of country music blasting on the radio.
Leigh Anne is sitting at the kitchen table with a large white binder open in front of her and a stack of magazines and pamphlets spread across the rest of the table. She’s well into the bottle of wine I gave her, and when she looks up, her eyes are happy.
It strikes me all of a sudden that I will get to come home for the rest of my life and see those eyes staring back at me. How the hell did I get so lucky?
“You’re home,” she says. She jumps up from the table and throws her arms around me.
My hands are full with the two bags of cake samples, and she laughs when I stumble back.
“What’s in the bags?” she asks.
I raise my eyebrows. “Cake,” I say.
She gasps and grabs one of the bags from me. “Gimme,” she says. “Did Jo make these?”
“She said to consider it her audition for making our wedding cake,” I say.
“As if there’s any question,” Leigh Anne says, pulling the small boxes out of the bags and setting them in a row on the island. “These look incredible. Where do we even start?”
