Wedding Date in Hot Springs, Arkansas

by Annalisa Daughety

  He rubbed his jaw. This was not working out the way he’d planned. “Please, Violet. Let’s put that behind us and move forward as a real couple. Tear up the contract. Forget the rehearsal dinner.”

  “No. I can’t. I’m sorry.” Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her. “That can’t be undone. All those people laughing at me, thinking you’re just a big cheater. That feeling of knowing you’d gone and done something behind my back.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I can trust you.”

  He’d driven past a yard full of Christmas decorations on the way here, and one of the inflatable ornaments lay in a pitiful puddle, the victim of a hole. That’s how he felt. Totally deflated. “What can I do to earn your trust back? How can I get you to believe that I really love you—that I’d do anything for you?”

  Violet shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do.” Her mouth turned down. “I think you should go.”

  Jackson looked into her eyes for one more moment. This couldn’t really be the end, could it? “Please think about what I’ve said.” He turned and walked through the living room and out into the chilly December night.

  Somehow, some way, he had to figure out how to make her believe him. Had to get her to trust him.

  Unless she really meant all those things she’d said to Reagan. If so, there was nothing he could ever do to fix it.

  Reagan turned the van radio up loud. She so rarely got to drive anywhere alone anymore; she’d forgotten what it felt like to listen to real music and not a CD of children’s songs.

  Her in-laws had offered to come by the house this afternoon and watch the kids while she did some last-minute shopping. She had to admit, Mrs. McClure might be getting a little better now that she’d kept all four kids herself. The overnight trip that was supposed to have been date night for Reagan and Chad had apparently been torturous for Chad’s parents.

  Mrs. McClure had made the mistake of trying to put Bah in the washing machine before bed, and Ava Grace refused to go to bed without him. Her cries woke the twins, and Izzy used the distraction to get into the cookie jar.

  Reagan had put on her best “I’m sorry” face during the story, but inwardly had laughed. After that experience, Mrs. McClure had been much less judgmental of Reagan’s parenting and had stopped using their weekly after-church lunch as a time to dispense helpful advice.

  She whipped into a space at the mall just as her phone rang. She picked it up and checked the caller ID. It was a forward from the house phone. She’d figured that would be one less thing for Chad’s parents to worry about. “Hello?”

  “Could I speak to Chad, please? I tried to call his cell but didn’t get him, and this was the alternate number he gave.” The woman’s voice was breathy.

  “This is his wife. Who’s calling, please?”

  There was a long pause on the other end. “This is Holly. And it’s about a personal matter.”

  Reagan snorted. “A personal matter? Please. Just tell me what this is in regards to.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not at liberty to discuss it. I’ll just contact him at a later time.”

  Reagan stared at the phone after Holly hung up. Unbelievable.

  So much for shopping. She backed out of the space and drove straight to Chad’s office, not even bothering to make small talk with the receptionist. She flung the door open to his office and walked inside.

  Chad looked up in surprise. “Reagan.” He rose from his chair. “Is everything okay?”

  “No. Everything is most certainly not okay.” She pointed at his seat. “Sit down. We need to talk. Who is Holly?”

  Chad didn’t sit down. Instead he walked toward her and took her by the elbow. “We’re not doing this here. Let’s go outside.” He led her into the hallway. “Reese, I’ll be out the rest of the afternoon,” he said as they walked past an open door two offices down from his. “Can you take my calls?”

  She peered at them and smiled, her glossy hair like a halo around her. “Nice to see you again, Reagan. It was nice to meet you at the office Christmas party last week.” Reagan forced a smile.

  “I’ll be glad to take your calls.” Reese nodded at Chad. “Y’all have a nice afternoon.”

  Chad kept a grip on Reagan’s elbow until they reached the parking lot. “Who has the kids?” he asked.

  “Your parents. I was going to do some Christmas shopping. For your gift.”

  He pointed toward the van. “Let’s go for a drive. Maybe get a cup of coffee or something.”

  She let him open the passenger door for her. It was the least he could do.

  Once they were on their way, she turned to him. “I forwarded the house phone to my cell. Apparently she tried your cell first but didn’t get you, so she called the house.”

  He slapped himself upside the head. “What a dummy I am.”

  “You can say that again.” She glared at him. He was even smiling. The nerve.

  Chad slowed down and turned into the Starbucks entrance then pulled into a space. “I’ll go grab coffees. Peppermint mocha, right?”

  “Wonders never cease. That’s my favorite of their holiday flavors.”

  He grinned. “I know. I’ve been married to you for ten years.” He winked and hopped out of the car.

  For a man who’d clearly been caught up to no good at something, he was certainly jovial. She leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. Lord, please don’t let me say anything I’ll regret. Guide my steps. And show us the way back to where we need to be.

  The door opened, and Chad held out her coffee. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” She took a sip as he climbed back in the driver’s side. “Now do you want to tell me who Holly is, or do I need to guess?”

  Chad laughed. “Holly is a travel agent. I’m sorry she called you. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  Reagan furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but I’ve probably been acting strange for the past few months.”

  “You don’t say? I have definitely noticed and have been pretty sure you were hiding something from me.”

  He frowned. “Kind of like the way you were hiding the gym and the freelancing from me?”

  She met his eyes. He was right. “Even?”

  “Works for me.”

  “So why do you need a travel agent? And if you tell me that your work is sending you to Timbuktu for a few weeks, I’m getting out of the van.”

  Chad chuckled. “That’s not it at all. You know how we had our tenth wedding anniversary in the summer? And you were still breast-feeding so we didn’t really go anywhere to celebrate because you weren’t comfortable leaving the twins yet?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I just wouldn’t have enjoyed going anywhere at that stage.” Plus she’d been fifteen pounds heavier and would’ve had to wear maternity clothes and endure people asking her when she was due and watching them cringe when she explained that her babies had already been born. Not exactly her idea of fun.

  “Well I knew then that I wanted to do something amazing for our next anniversary.” He grinned. “So I’m taking you to Italy for two weeks over the summer.” He beamed.

  “Italy?” Reagan and Violet had spent a semester there in college. “It’s always been my dream to go back.”

  “I know.” Chad took her hand. “That’s why I’m taking you. I want to do something really special for you. Something that will show you how much you mean to me and how thankful I am that God gave me you.”

  Tears sprang into her eyes. “And I came at you all accusatory. I’m sorry.”

  “I admit, it must’ve seemed suspicious.”

  “But you hate to fly.” Chad loathed planes, and if possible, he drove for work trips.

  He nodded. “But I’ll make an exception for this. I know we always said that you and Violet would go back to Italy someday, but she’s so busy now who knows when she’ll have time off. And I know this is something you’ve wanted
to do.”

  Reagan thought about his words. He wanted to do this for her. Chad would’ve been happier just going to the lake or something. “Have you already booked it? Like paid the money?”

  He shook his head. “That’s probably what Holly was calling about. She was putting some packages together. I’ve been researching for a few months for itineraries and stuff, but finally decided a travel agent was easier.”

  “What if we do something else? Instead of Italy?” she asked. “Something for both of us?”

  He widened his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Hear me out before you say anything, okay?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  She took a breath. “I’m really enjoying the freelancing business. More than I expected. Just a few months ago, that wasn’t even on my radar, but I was really miserable. I want to be one of those moms who adores staying home five days a week with her kids.” She shrugged. “But I’m not. I need to do something that has nothing to do with them and nothing to do with the household and nothing to do with you—even if it’s just for a few hours a week. That’s one thing the gym membership taught me.” She glanced at him. “Do you think that makes me selfish?”

  He took her hand. “You are not selfish. I guess that if the tables were turned, I’d probably feel the same way. You’re really good at what you do. I don’t blame you for wanting to keep at it in some form.”

  “I’m not saying I want to go back to work. Or even work daily. I’m just saying that I’d like to pick up freelance jobs here and there. I’ll schedule them so I’m not overloaded because I want my main focus to be you guys.” She smiled. “I think having something that’s my own again will really go a long way in making me happy.”

  “And I want you to be happy. When you told me you felt like the only role you played anymore was that of a maid/cook/chauffeur/nurse, it made me feel terrible.”

  “Then let’s use some of the money from the trip and put it toward hiring someone to come in two afternoons a week to watch the kids. I’ll freelance upstairs in the office or go run my errands without having to load up three kids in the van.”

  “Do you think your friend Maggie would be interested?”

  She nodded. “Unless she’s found another family. She’s only looking for something part-time, so this could be perfect.”

  Chad leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. “I love you. And I do want you to be happy.”

  “We can go away for our anniversary, maybe for a long weekend, just the two of us.”

  “The lake?” he asked with a grin.

  She nodded. “Sounds heavenly.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asked. “If you were unhappy enough to go behind my back, you had to be pretty miserable.”

  Reagan shook her head. “I felt like a huge failure.” Tears filled her eyes. “You have worked hard to give me the opportunity to stay home with our children, and it doesn’t make me as happy as I thought it would. I feel like I’m letting you down—letting the kids down—by even needing some time to myself.”

  Chad reached over and wiped away a tear. “You are an amazing wife and an amazing mother. You are not a failure or a letdown.” He rubbed her back. “Needing a few hours a week to yourself doesn’t mean you’re deserting us.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered. She reached over and gripped his hand. “There’s one more thing though.”

  He furrowed his brow. “What?”

  “I think we should go to counseling. There’s a guy at church who works with couples.” It had been on her mind for a long time. “Do you think we need it?” he asked.

  Reagan reached up and stroked his face. “I think this has been a tough year. You’ve taken on more stuff at work, and we’ve added two more people to our family. You and I have to work on communicating. And I have to be less of a control freak about dumb stuff like what brand of detergent or what kind of coffee creamer.”

  He nodded. “And I guess I need to do a better job of focusing on you at the end of the day instead of the TV or my iPad.”

  “So you’ll go with me? I think it could really help. I have a friend who says it’s made a huge difference in her marriage.”

  He leaned over and kissed her again. “Sign me up.”

  Chapter 34

  Mom: I WANT TO MAKE SURE YOU’RE COMING TO OUR HOUSE ON CHRISTMAS DAY. IT WILL JUST BE THE THREE OF US SINCE AMBER IS ON HER HONEYMOON. DADDY SAYS THIS NEWS WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE TO YOU. (Text message sent December 23, 8:22 p.m.)

  Violet Matthews: I’LL BE THERE. AND DADDY’S RIGHT. (Text message sent December 23, 8:29 p.m.)

  Jackson knew he was probably the dumbest guy in the universe, trying to win the heart of the woman he loved. He might be even worse than those guys on The Bachelorette.

  He took the packages from the passenger seat and hurried up the path to Violet’s door. He’d debated whether to just leave them and then text her to get them off the porch or give them to her in person.

  He’d settled on in person because he wanted to see her face. Each gift had been so carefully selected, he at least wanted the satisfaction of seeing her happiness.

  He rapped on the door and waited.

  Violet opened the door. Her Christmas apron and the smidge of flour on her cheek told him she was baking.

  “Bad time?”

  She shook her head. “No, why?”

  “Once you told me sometimes you baked when you were upset. I was just hoping you aren’t upset about anything.” He tried to peer into the house to make sure Arnie was on his bed.

  She stepped back. “Come on in. I’m fine.”

  Jackson walked inside and noticed Arnie standing in the kitchen doorway looking pleased. “So he’s better?”

  “His kidneys are still failing, but the vet thinks he’s got a little time left.” She grinned. “And that very satisfied look on his face is because today was Arnie Day. He just finished his steak. I’m actually baking him some homemade doggy treats now.”

  Jackson laughed. “He does look pretty happy.”

  “What’s in the bag?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

  He grinned. “Your Christmas gift.”

  Violet shook her head. “You didn’t need to do that. At all.”

  “I had to. Most of this I’d gotten before the wedding. So this has kind of been in the works for a long time.”

  “I don’t feel right taking gifts from you, not after everything that has happened.”

  “You mean like me giving your sister a way to humiliate you in public and then having the audacity to tell you I love you?” He grinned. “I figure I’ve got two strikes. I deserve one more, right?”

  “This doesn’t change anything.”

  “I know. I don’t expect it to.” He hoped it would, maybe, but he certainly didn’t expect it.

  She wiped her hands on her apron. “Fine. Sit down.”

  He sat on the couch and pulled the wrapped gifts from the bag.

  Violet’s eyes grew wide. “Four presents? You went way overboard.”

  “Here you go.” He handed her the first one. “This one I’ve been working on for months.”

  She held it up to her ear and shook gently. “It clinks.”

  “Could be broken glass.” He smiled.

  Violet tore the paper away and pulled a red glass jar from the box. “It looks like the Fiestaware I have in my kitchen.”

  He nodded. “Open the lid.”

  She gently took off the lid and looked inside. “Pennies?” She pulled out a handful and peered at them. “All from before 1984.” She smiled. “I love it.”

  He’d been collecting pennies from all over the place. “Here’s the next one.” He handed her a square, flat package.

  She tore off the wrapping paper. “No way!” She held up the Bon Jovi record and grinned. “I love it. I don’t have this on vinyl, so this will be great to have at the shop.”

  “And this one’s next.” He handed her a larger
box.

  Violet shook her head. “Really, you didn’t have to do this.” She lifted the package up and down. “This one is kind of heavy.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued.”

  He laughed. “Just open it.”

  Violet took the paper off the box and lifted the lid. She let out a squeal. “I love this.” She lifted a yellow mixing bowl from the box. It had a white flowered pattern in the center of the bowl. “Vintage Pyrex. I love this stuff.” She beamed.

  “I thought it would look good at the shop.” He’d seen a picture in a magazine of some actress’s vintage Pyrex bowl collection and had immediately thought of Violet. “Plus, it combines two of your favorite things—vintage and baking.”

  She smiled. “I love it.”

  He carefully pulled the final gift from the bag. “This one is the recent addition. I hope you like it.” He handed it to her. He’d had to pick it up on his way here.

  She eyed him suspiciously. “This one is bigger than the rest.”

  “That settles it, Sherlock. If we ever have to solve a mystery, I want you on my team.”

  Violet burst out laughing. “Let’s just consider that my Captain Obvious moment of the day.”

  “Open it.” He hoped the fact that she was laughing and joking with him was a good sign. Could she be coming around?

  She carefully tore the paper off the large rectangular package. “Oh! It’s just beautiful. I can’t believe you had this done.” She tore off the rest of the paper and held up a painting of Arnie. “It looks just like him. It’s amazing.”

  “I hired Shadow to paint it,” he explained, pointing to the signature in the corner.

  Violet looked at him with tears in her eyes. “This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it so much.” She held it out and looked at it. “She captured him perfectly.”

  Jackson leaned closer to her to look at the painting over her shoulder. “I wanted you to have a portrait of him that was more unique than just a photograph.”

  “Thank you so much.” Violet smiled. “I mean that. I know you and I aren’t exactly in a good place, but this means a lot. No one has ever put so much thought into gifts for me before.” She gestured to the stack of packages. “And I love every one of them.”