by Nadia Lee
“Are you okay?” Jane asked.
Ceinlys smiled, pumping herself up with a visible effort. “I just have a lot on my mind. Nothing to worry yourself about.”
“You really moving to Provence after the wedding?”
“It’s for the best, Jane.” Ceinlys patted the younger woman’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t want me around.”
She gaped. “Why not?”
“You don’t know how I can be.” She looked away. “Sometimes I see my own mother-in-law in myself.”
“You mean Shirley, right?”
“Yes.”
“I thought…” Jane sighed. “I feel kind of disloyal saying this, but I hear she was very…um…exacting.”
“Something like that.” Ceinlys gazed out the window, her chest rising as she inhaled deeply, and Jane suddenly realized that Shirley had hurt Ceinlys. Jane doubted she’d ever find out how or any other detail, but she didn’t want Ceinlys to think badly of herself.
“Well I don’t think you’re that terrible. You’ve been really nice to me, helping with all this planning and never pressuring me to do things this way or that way. I couldn’t ask for a better mother-in-law.” She reached out and held Ceinlys’s cool hand, and Ceinlys jerked her face in Jane’s direction. “Iain’s told me what happened between the two of you. You’ve suffered a lot because of, well, his thoughtlessness, but I know you love him. And I know you’ve been helping me for him.”
“Jane…”
“My mom passed away when I was five. I don’t even remember her face, really. I just like to pretend I do by thinking about what she looks like in the pictures we have around the house. But it’s not the same.”
This time it was Ceinlys who reached out and patted their entwined hands. The sight sent a pang of longing through Jane.
“I hate to admit it, but I was a little jealous of Iain for having a mom like you. Someone who loved him in spite of everything. I know you want to move, but if you don’t mind, could you just think it over one more time? Or maybe, I don’t know, delay the move until spring? I’d love a chance to get to know you better. I know you’re Iain’s mom, but there are times I wish you could be my mom, too.”
“Oh, child. I can be…hateful,” Ceinlys murmured, a luminous sheen in her eyes. “I certainly was to some of you.”
“No one’s perfect.” Jane gave her an impish grin. “’Sides, I’m used to a bunch of older brothers. I can push back if I don’t like something.”
Finally, a warm smile broke through Ceinlys’s face. “Yes, I imagine you can. Very well. I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” Jane hugged her, then thought she felt something wet on Ceinlys’s cheeks. Affection for the older woman swelled inside her. She didn’t let go until Ceinlys was ready.
* * *
The rehearsal dinner was held at La Mer. Since the wedding was going to take place at Éternité, Mark’s other restaurant seemed more apt.
Thinking back to Mark and Hilary’s rehearsal dinner, Dane grimaced. He’d rather pour syrup on himself and roll around in an anthill, but Sophia was looking forward to this…travesty.
Hadn’t she learned yet?
Or perhaps she was being willfully blind to the crap that went on in his family. She would have to in order to stay sane…or even think about staying with him.
“Come on, don’t be so grim,” she coaxed as he drove their Bentley to the restaurant.
She was in an elegant coral pink cocktail dress that fit her slim body perfectly; diamonds dripped from her ears and glittered around her elegant throat. Everything about her was delicate—so much so that he’d rather spend the evening locked in their penthouse to protect her from what would undoubtedly be an inappropriate and high-drama family affair.
“Besides, I love spending time with your family,” she said.
“They’re tolerable after a few scotches. Bourbon works, too.”
“Dane, sweetie,” she chided him gently. “Come on. I think it’s going to be fine.”
She would think that. She didn’t have the lifetime of molar gritting dinners that he’d gone through. It was a wonder he had any enamel left on his teeth.
Breathing in deeply and girding his loins, he escorted her to one of the private rooms on the second level. Fish swam around in the aquarium walls, peaceful and happy, not realizing that the diners would likely be agitated and miserable by the evening’s end.
The table was long and straight, with Iain and Jane sitting together in the center. They’d done that on purpose, and the family sat according to where they fell. Dane took in the Connollys, cataloguing them with a glance—their cheap but well-maintained clothes and shoes, the serviceable haircuts. Her brothers were slightly goggle-eyed as they took in the décor. They were trying to hide their reactions, but it was clear they were out of their element. Her father was doing a bit better, but he gave himself away with the clenching and unclenching of his hands. Dane bet the man had no idea he was doing it.
Not that the Pryce side was much better. Salazar had a scotch in front of him, as did the other men, although Dane had a feeling that his brothers and Justin were going to limit themselves to one or two at the most. Hilary, Ginger and Jane were sharing a bottle of chardonnay, while Vanessa held what was undoubtedly a virgin daiquiri. Ceinlys walked in just as Dane and Sophia took their seats, and then Geraldine arrived.
Damn it.
Dane gave Iain a sharp look. If he wanted an uneventful wedding, he should’ve never invited their aunt. Even though Geraldine hadn’t said anything obnoxious toward Sophia on Thanksgiving, Dane remembered that she hadn’t said anything nice either, not even a hello.
Promise to Shirley or no, Dane wasn’t having his aunt be nasty to the woman he loved. He’d already warned her to watch herself, although he wasn’t sure how seriously she’d taken him.
In the event, however, everyone behaved, even Geraldine. When Mark and Hilary had had their rehearsal dinner, nobody from the bride’s side of the family had come, which hadn’t surprised Dane since her family was dysfunctional in the extreme. If Mark had invited them, Dane might’ve had some choice words to ensure they left immediately. Call him a snob, but he didn’t associate with people who belonged on trashy daytime talk shows.
However, behaving didn’t mean Geraldine was going to act graciously. She noted everything with an unblinking stare, especially anything she deemed less than perfect on Jane’s side of the family.
“Is everything to your liking?” Ceinlys asked Jane’s father as the waiters brought out raw salmon and sea bream drizzled with some buttery herb sauce.
“It’s really good, thanks,” he said with a smile even though his fork had been hovering over the fish for a good while now without spearing anything.
“It’s sashimi grade. Perfectly acceptable to eat the way it is,” Geraldine said, her voice purring. “West Virginia isn’t that far from the coast. Surely you’ve had sashimi before?”
“We are not big on…raw fish,” one of Jane’s brothers responded honestly. “Texture feels kinda wrong.”
“It’s an acquired taste. And you should acquire it, for Jane’s sake. She cooks with this kind of stuff, you know.”
“Actually I don’t do Japanese,” Jane said.
“Really? That’s too bad. All my friends love Japanese cuisine.”
“I’m sure they also love lamb chops,” Iain interjected before Geraldine could lob more ridiculousness. Dane gazed at her thoughtfully. He’d never realized how…unpleasant she could be.
“And apple pies,” Salazar added. “Nobody does apple pie like Jane.”
She flushed. “Thank you.”
“True enough,” Wes said. “Don’t like to brag, but my little girl always made the best pie in town.” His chest puffed out a bit. Too bad he hadn’t been more supportive of her dreams before. Still, Dane could be open-minded about him since Iain seemed to want that, and Dane felt just the tiniest bit bad about calling Jane a charity case last Christmas. The girl was very
nice, and Sophia adored her.
“Besides, not everyone likes raw fish,” Mark added, always the diplomat and nice guy. “Some of my customers can’t stand the stuff.”
Geraldine snorted and muttered, “Plebs.”
“Not everyone has the stomach for it,” Salazar said.
“Please,” she scoffed.
“That’s right, I forgot. You’ve even eaten ikizukuri.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Personally, I can’t go that far.”
“What’s ikizoo…whatever?” one of Jane’s brothers asked. His name was Silas, as Dane recalled. The youngest of the bunch and probably the most easily impressed.
Salazar answered, “It’s a special type of sashimi. You filet a fish—alive—and then serve the slices of its flesh along with its head and parts of the torso so you can see its mouth opening and closing, the gills moving. Certifies the freshness, if you see what I mean.”
Jane’s entire family went slightly green. Silas actually covered his mouth with his hand. Sophia curled her lips in distaste, and Dane patted her shoulder in comfort, all the while giving Iain another look. Should’ve known better.
Iain closed his eyes even as he tilted his head fractionally in Jane’s direction.
Of course. It would have been her idea. Ever the naïve girl, she wouldn’t accept that some families were simply beyond help.
Just as the servers were bringing out the main course, a loud voice boomed from the entry way to the private room.
Vanessa and Justin froze.
“Seriously?” Dane said. “You invited him?”
“We didn’t invite him,” Vanessa hissed.
A moment later, Barron Sterling and Stella Lloyd walked through the door.
Chapter Nineteen
“What are you doing here?” Vanessa said, gaping at her in-laws.
Salazar turned to face Barron, waiting for the old man’s response. This ought to be good.
“Oh, we happened to be in town,” Barron said. “And when I tried to get in touch, Rita said you were here.”
Vanessa glanced at her husband. Rita was Justin’s assistant. From the way he was glowering, that poor girl better be really good at her job or she was getting fired.
“I didn’t realize we would be interrupting,” Stella said.
A dark haired beauty of Italian heritage, she was Barron’s new love. They’d both lost their spouses, and it seemed like they were well suited to each other, although they hadn’t married. Salazar had heard that it was Stella who’d nixed the idea. But Barron didn’t care about the formalities as long as he had her.
“Why don’t we go, dear?” she said to Barron.
“I want to say hello to Ryan before I leave.”
“He’s with his nanny for the night,” Vanessa said.
Disappointment flashed in Barron’s gaze. “Truly?”
“We just sent you new photos and videos of him,” Justin said.
“Yes! Strapping young lad. But it’s not the same as seeing him in person.”
“There’s no reason why Barron and Stella can’t join us, is there?” Jane asked, looking at Mark for confirmation. “After all, they are family.”
“Why, thank you, Jane,” Barron said, just as Justin said, “We wouldn’t want to impose…”
“Oh no, it’s nothing,” she said.
“The table’s big enough, and a couple extra place settings won’t be a problem,” Mark said. He signaled one of the servers, who scurried away.
“The bride-to-be has spoken,” Barron declared with a big smile. He put a hand to Stella’s back to guide her to a seat. Salazar watched the old man. Barron’s shamelessness was legendary, and now Salazar had to wonder if he had any pride to barge in like this. On the other hand, it was obvious the man wanted to spend more time with Vanessa and Justin and their new baby. He didn’t care how he looked, so long as he got what he wanted.
Was that the difference between him and Salazar? Barron had found true love twice. His romance with Ethel had been legendary, and he’d been inconsolable when his wife had passed away.
And now… Now he had Stella Lloyd. The woman was no pushover, and from all accounts, stubborn as hell. It couldn’t have been easy for Barron to woo her, but here they were.
Although Barron had crashed the dinner, there was one positive outcome—Geraldine no longer made obnoxious comments, since she hated to leave bad impressions with those she considered her social equals. And was it Salazar’s imagination or did Ceinlys relax?
Her smile came more easily now, and she chatted with Jane’s family, leading the conversation in a way always designed to make them feel at ease, and making sure each of the Connolly men got his chance to shine conversationally. Salazar hadn’t seen this side of her in so long, he’d almost forgotten that she could be so charming and sweet.
After dessert was served, Salazar excused himself and went out onto the balcony to clear his head. Being with his family was… nice, but oddly uncomfortable at the same time. It was like he didn’t really know how to be around them now, except by being sarcastic and not giving a shit about what came out of his mouth. Maybe he’d spent too much of his life that way to know anything else…
“Just watch ’em fall, one after another.”
He turned to see Barron.
“Cigar?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” Salazar took a fat roll.
“You and Ceinlys seem to be getting along remarkably well,” Barron said after a few companionable puffs.
Salazar forced himself to raise an eyebrow, affecting an amusement he didn’t feel. “Did you expect us to have a screaming match?”
“No, of course not. You’re both too proper for that. I did expect some tension, though.”
“Nah. No tension now.” Just regret.
“It’s sort of interesting—and sad in a way—because both of you love each other so much, and I always thought you would work things out eventually. But, I guess I lost.”
“Lost?”
“I made a bet with Stella. She didn’t think you two would reconcile, and I said you would.” He puffed meditatively. “Not that it matters much. I understand Ceinlys is moving to France.”
Salazar nodded. “Provence.”
“No break could be cleaner.”
“Well, she’s a decisive woman.”
“Who’s taken over thirty years to come to the decision.” Barron shook his head. “That’s a long time.” He let out a long breath. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Salazar, but I’m…a bit relieved your mother passed away three years ago.”
“Well that’s a helluva thing to say.” Salazar studied the man. Barron hadn’t been drinking—bad liver—so his rather blunt talk couldn’t be chalked up to alcohol. “Why?”
“If she were still alive I would never have let Justin stay married to Vanessa, no matter what he felt for her. I’m sure that battle would’ve gotten ugly.”
That surprised Salazar. Barron had never come across as the meddling type. “Why is that?”
“Because Shirley was always miserable unless she had someone she could demolish and then rebuild into what she deemed acceptable. Just look at what she’s done. Geraldine’s brittle, Dane is cold, Elizabeth is…well. There’s got to be something wrong with a child who’s that outwardly perfect. And Ceinlys…” Barron shook his head. “She’s another Shirley…or pretty close, although I don’t think your mother was entirely successful in remolding her. I’m quite certain Shirley would’ve tried to change either Vanessa or Justin. And it would’ve destroyed them both.”
“You don’t think you could’ve headed her off?”
“Shirley always did whatever she wanted. If I’d tried to stop her, it would only have goaded her into further action.”
Salazar said nothing. Perhaps he should be angry at what Barron was saying. After all, it was an insult to his mother. But everything Barron had said was true.
Barron finished his cigar, then sniffed his sleeves, shaking his head. “If anybody asks, it was just
you smoking out here.”
Salazar laughed. “Afraid Stella might disapprove?”
“No ‘might’ about it. She does disapprove. But I can’t seem to give up the occasional stogie.” He went inside.
How ludicrous that Barron would feel the need to hide his dereliction from his lady friend. But Salazar knew he would keep the older man’s secret. After all, he’d been a family friend for a long time before he became an in-law.
Salazar watched his children through the door Barron had left open. He had no doubt they would do well and live happily ever after. Mark had no pride left to protect—not after the public spectacle he’d made of himself to win Hilary. If Shirley had still been alive, she would’ve staged a heart attack over what he’d pulled just to make him stop. Iain had never met a woman who made him care enough to change until Jane. Jesus, he’d even gone shopping on Black Friday with her. Salazar shuddered. If that wasn’t a sign of true love, he didn’t know what was. Vanessa and Justin were a pair of mules, but they’d both finally learned to give a little. Smart of them to figure that out before they hit their sixties. After Shane got dragged back from Thailand by Ginger, he told her absolutely everything.
And Dane… That boy watched Sophia with such palpable yearning, Salazar felt like a voyeur from time to time. Dane would rather cut out his heart than hurt her. He still blamed himself for the car crash that had cost her her Olympic dream. And if he’d forgiven himself, it was only barely, and only because Sophia had forgiven him already.
People said that a father’s achievement could be measured by whether or not his children did better than him. By that metric, Salazar was a smashing success. But he didn’t feel like one as his gaze came to rest on Ceinlys.
* * *
Dane went out on the balcony. Not that he actually wanted to go out there, but Sophia had poked him in the ribs and pointed at Salazar.
For some reason Dane could never fathom, she liked his father, considered him sweet and misunderstood. Even after she’d learned about the things he’d said to Dane as a child, her opinion hadn’t changed. “He wouldn’t have been like that with you if he wasn’t hurting somehow. And in spite of all that, he still provided for you and made sure you never lacked for anything.”
