Four Steps to the Altar

by Jean Stone

  “We?” Sarah asked.

  Jo set down her mug. “Frank went to that big auction in Albany. Maybe Antonia’s driver could help him haul the things he bought.”

  Lily blinked a quick, sharp blink. “I can’t do that! Jo! I can’t introduce the two of them!”

  Jo shrugged. “Sorry. It’s just that with everything that’s going on…you know, with Frank’s mother sick and him working so hard, well, I thought he might like the extra help.”

  “I think the objective is to keep the ‘in-laws’ separated,” Sarah said.

  “Well,” Elaine said, “we have all those edible place cards to make for Jo and Andrew’s wedding. Maybe we could ask Antonia to help. Or her personal assistant? It’s not too soon to make them, then freeze them.”

  Lily sensed a pinhole of hope. Elaine might have come up with a great idea. “Terrific,” she said. “Maybe that will work.”

  But it was Jo who shook her head. “No,” she said, “it’s not a good idea.”

  “Of course it is!” Lily shrieked too loudly, and the nurses and the truck drivers turned their heads toward them.

  Jo lowered her eyes and spoke just above a whisper. “It’s just that I think we’d better hold off on doing things for my wedding.”

  The stares then moved to Jo, who sat, tears welling in her eyes, as she slowly related the news of Brian’s trial and how she couldn’t marry Andrew in the middle of it all.

  “She can’t do this,” Lily said to Elaine. She was driving Elaine back to the shop because Elaine had left her van there and ridden to the wedding in Sarah’s truck. “We have to stop her, Lainey. We have to convince her that it’s still okay for her to marry Andrew. And it’s not just for the press we’ll get. It’s not because we have everything all planned.”

  Elaine turned her head out the window of Lily’s small Mercedes. “Maybe it’s us,” she said. “Maybe none of us is destined to be someone else’s wife. At least not right now. Maybe we’re just supposed to see to it that other people marry. Others, but not us.”

  Lily felt her eyes grow wide. “Elaine McNulty Thomas, don’t even think such a thing.”

  “Well, why not? You can’t figure out how you can marry Frank; Sarah never wanted to tie the knot; and now this thing with Jo and Andrew.”

  “And you and Martin?”

  She turned back to Lily. “What about us?”

  “You’re seeing each other again, aren’t you? Are you going to make it to the altar?” They’d planned to marry last autumn. It had been the reason the women came back together in the first place, to be Elaine’s bridesmaids for her second time around. But Elaine had called it off, and she and Martin had broken up. Now they were back together, though she didn’t talk about him much.

  “I won’t be marrying Martin,” Elaine said.

  “Oh, good grief, Elaine, why not? One of us just needs to get this marriage thing over and done with.”

  “I won’t be marrying Martin for one good reason,” Elaine said, looking back out to the street. “It’s because he hasn’t asked me.”

  Lily laughed. “Well, for godssake, girl, why don’t you ask him?”

  “It’s not that easy, Lily. I love Martin, I’m not ashamed of that. But I’m not the same woman I was a year ago. I’m independent now. If get married, I’ll risk losing that, won’t I?”

  Lily was tired of trying to dissect everyone’s love life, hers included. So she simply stepped on the accelerator and wondered if the women of Second Chances were the only middle-aged women on the planet who simply couldn’t get it right.

  “You can’t do this,” Andrew said to Jo as she stood in his kitchen, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “I have to, Andrew. We don’t know what’s going to happen. How can I testify against Brian one day and marry you the next?”

  “How can you not? You love me, don’t you?”

  “Please. Try to understand.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. The invitations went out weeks ago. Invitations to your friends. Your mother’s friends. People you’ve known your whole life. And the honeymoon’s all planned. That perfect place out in Gay Head…it was your choice, remember?” He moved to the kitchen window. He stared out at the cellar hole, the thing that was supposed to have been the foundation for their new life. “You can’t just change your mind, Jo. You can’t do what Elaine did.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind, Andrew. Not about you. And I’m not doing what Elaine did. We’ll just postpone it. Pick another date. Something in September maybe.”

  He supposed he should put his arms around her. He supposed he should go to her and kiss her and tell her everything would be all right. But the thought of Brian…

  “Maybe September or maybe never?” Andrew asked, his anger winning out over his senses. “Are you sure that’s not what you’d prefer?”

  “No, Andrew. I want to marry you. Just not right now. Not until—”

  He held up his hand. “Never mind. I know. Not until Brian Forbes isn’t in the picture. God, Jo, just please tell me you’re not still in love with him.”

  It was difficult to tell if the look in Jo’s wet eyes was one of fury or of disbelief. As much as part of Andrew wished he could take the question back, wished he never had demanded such an answer, he waited, while she stood, staring.

  Instead of answering him, though, Jo just turned around and went out the kitchen door, leaving him standing there, having just lost the second most important person in his life.

  18

  Lily was going to tell Frank she would be frightfully busy for a few days, or at least that’s what she decided she’d say to him. She could spend time with Antonia each day, then sneak off early to meet Frank at his store and they could make love or just cuddle on the settee in the back room. Surely it would work. Besides, it wasn’t as if Antonia would stay for any length of time.

  Would she?

  While dropping off Elaine, Lily looked across Main Street to Antiques & Such. No lights were on. Frank’s pickup wasn’t in the lot. He must be home, tending to his mother and his father.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Elaine. “I’m going to run over to the Forbeses’.” It was getting late, but Frank once said his mother’s illness had no timetable. Maybe he was still awake and would like some company.

  Elaine waved and Lily drove away and five minutes later she pulled into the driveway of the home where Frank was raised, where he’d returned after his divorce, not counting the many nights he spent in the back room of his store.

  As Lily had expected, the house was lit and welcoming. A car she didn’t recognize was also in the driveway. Oh, good, she thought, as she got out of her car. Frank always seemed to like introducing her to his family’s friends.

  “Sondra,” Frank said as they stood in the living room next to the hospital bed where his mother watched with curious eyes, “this is Lily.”

  It took only a moment for Lily to get the picture, to place the woman’s name and her long brown hair, oval face, and eyes that might be blue or green depending on the light. Or at least that’s what Frank had said one night when he and Lily were sharing bits and pieces about each other’s past.

  She was not unattractive. She did not seem unpleasant or aloof. She was, however, Lily knew, Frank’s former wife, to whom he’d been married for something like ten years.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Sondra said, extending her hand to Lily. Lily couldn’t tell whether or not Sondra had been told the importance of a woman called Lily in Frank’s life these days.

  “Likewise,” Lily said, shaking the cool, dry hand. She suddenly remembered she hadn’t seen the front side of a mirror since nine o’clock that morning. Her linen skirt must be wrinkled and her hair a frizz ball from the rain. Her personal dilemmas had uncharacteristically usurped her sense of looking good, or, at least, respectable.

  In the awkward moment that followed, Lily supposed Frank might have said, Lily is my fiancée, if Lily had said yes, if she had
n’t been so scared to lose a little cash.

  Instead, he said, “Sondra heard Mother is sick. She came back east to see some of her relatives and decided to drop in.”

  Lily nodded and said, “How nice.” She turned from both of them and stepped toward the hospital bed, as if she knew Frank’s mother other than the few words that they had shared. “How are you feeling tonight, Eleanor?” She said “Eleanor,” as if she always called her that and not Mrs. Forbes.

  The dry lips smiled. “I’m fine, thank you, dear.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Frank interrupted. “Sondra and I were about to go out for a bite to eat. Would you like to join us?”

  Most women, Lily supposed, would say, Oh, no, I won’t impose. You two go ahead.

  But Lily was Lily, not most women, so she said, “Sure, that would be nice.”

  She regretted it, of course.

  They went in Sondra’s rental car, because Lily’s Mercedes was built only for two and Frank’s pickup wasn’t offered.

  Frank rode in the front with Sondra; Lily sat in the back alone. She watched the backs of their heads and tried to picture them together as man and wife. Sondra sat tall in the driver’s seat. She had large, dominant shoulders that were well-defined even under a shapeless khaki raincoat. Lily suspected that, when they’d made love, Sondra had been the one on top.

  Other than hearing they were going to the Stone Castle because it had always been one of Sondra’s “favorites,” Lily couldn’t decipher much of the former couple’s conversation. The wipers squeaked across the windshield, camouflaging their words, which Lily thought were spoken lower than they should be under the circumstances.

  Martha Holland greeted them warmly at the castle. If she thought it odd that the three of them were together, she didn’t show it. Lily was glad, however, that she’d made Antonia’s reservations at Wheatleigh, not there. The way her luck had been going, Antonia et al. would have decided to saunter in tonight.

  “So,” Sondra said to Lily once they’d perused the menus and ordered wine, “here I am, back in West Hope.”

  “Here you are,” Frank said.

  Lily merely smiled. “How are things in Chicago?” she asked.

  Sondra half-smiled back. “It’s Colorado, actually. Things in Colorado have been fine. Until recently, that is. I had a wonderful job at a big bank. Then the layoffs came. Well,” she said with a low voice, “it wasn’t as bad for me. Some people with families…Well, none of us expected it.”

  “That’s how layoffs are,” Frank said, his face a serious mask. “It’s always difficult.”

  “The severance packages weren’t as good as when Global Paper went out of business.”

  Frank looked at Lily. “Global Paper is based here. A lot of residents worked there until a few years ago when their parent company shut them down. Too many new regulations. Too much money needed to bring the old mill up to the new safety codes.”

  Lily nodded as if she cared. She wondered if Frank and Sondra had these boring kinds of conversations when they’d been married. If so, it wasn’t hard to understand why things hadn’t worked.

  The wine arrived. They sipped and ordered dinner. Then Sondra half-smiled again at Lily. “Frank tells me you have a little business here in West Hope.”

  Lily laughed and matched her half smile. “It’s not so little anymore. We began it as a hobby, for something fun to do. I guess we’ve done too good a job, because we’re now turning people away.”

  “Mmm,” Sondra said, her gaze moving from Lily over to Frank. “Second weddings. Have you handled many where the bride and groom were married to each other the first time around?” Her amusement now was played out with a simpish, silly grin.

  Lily’s spine stiffened from the bottom to the top. “Actually, no,” she said. “Our research shows that reweddings are very few and not at all successful.” The Second Chances research, of course, showed no such thing. In fact the Benson wedding—their showpiece—might have been considered a “remarriage” even though the couple had never divorced. Whatever, Lily thought with a sigh, aware that her biggest concern now—in addition to juggling Antonia—would be to do some fancy maneuvering if she intended to keep Frank.

  “Is Cassie there?”

  The phone had rung and Andrew had quickly grabbed for the receiver, hoping it was Jo, hoping she’d come back to her senses. Instead, it was a boy.

  “She’s doing her homework,” Andrew barked. “She can’t come to the phone.”

  The boy laughed and said, “I only want to talk to her a second.”

  “Sorry. Those are the rules.” The boy’s voice was deep enough to hint that it had already changed. Andrew preferred Eddie—Cassie’s first “real” boyfriend, who still was a tenor. Unfortunately, she no longer liked him.

  “Well then,” the boy said, almost sarcastically, “when she’s finished, tell her to call Victor.”

  Andrew hung up without saying good-bye. He found it irritating that boys had recently begun to call his daughter. He found it equally irritating that today, sixth-or seventh-grade boys seemed so cavalier about calling girls they liked.

  As with most things, it wasn’t like that when he was a kid.

  He sat back on the tattered sofa, remembering Melissa Langlois.

  They’d been in junior high; Melissa—the most beautiful girl in the whole school, maybe in all of Manhattan—was in his homeroom.

  He’d called her several times, each time not without a prelude of sweating palms and pacing of the penthouse, rehearsing over and over the words that he would say.

  Hi, Melissa. It’s me, Andrew Kennedy. Did you do your history homework yet?

  No.

  Hi, Melissa. It’s Andrew. Have you studied for the English test?

  No.

  Hey, Melissa. It’s Andrew. Want to screw?

  In spite of his current anguish, Andrew felt a small smile. Women, he thought.

  Then his smile vanished as he realized his daughter wasn’t yet a woman, was she?

  He closed his eyes and wondered how the heck he was supposed to know how to handle things with Cassie when he couldn’t even get his own life straight.

  19

  Lily and Frank sat for a long time in Lily’s car after Sondra had dropped them off then continued on her way to the nearest Super 8 Motel. She’d been hinting, Lily knew, to stay in the Forbeses’ big colonial, but Frank had said it would be too disruptive for his mother.

  “Believe me,” Frank said, “I had no idea that she’d show up.”

  “She knew your mother is sick.”

  “Everyone in West Hope knows it. Like I said, Sondra still has relatives around.”

  The rain that been pouring down all day now cascaded in heavy, diagonal sheets against the windshield.

  “She said she’s staying a few days,” Lily said.

  “I guess.”

  “Well, if you need to spend time with her, don’t worry about me. In fact, one of the reasons I stopped by tonight was to tell you I’m going to be pretty busy myself for a little while.” For the first time in many years, Lily no longer liked her life, no longer liked herself. She wished she was home now, cuddled with her rabbit.

  “Lily…” He touched her shoulder.

  A tear slid down her cheek, the way the rain slid down the windshield. “She wants to get back with you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not.”

  He said something; she didn’t hear.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I said, ‘I think I’m already taken.’ Aren’t I?”

  There was, of course, no answer to that question, so Lily asked, “Are you still in love with her?”

  He moved his arm down from her shoulder and touched her hand. “Lily…”

  He didn’t say he still loved Sondra. He didn’t say he didn’t. He just said “Lily” once again.

  She sighed. “Ten years is a long time. I wasn’t married to anyone for ten years.” />
  “They weren’t all good years.”

  “She wanted more from life than West Hope had to offer.” Would Lily feel that way one day? Would she be content to put her traveling days behind her? Her Paris shopping and her Barcelona lunches and her Palm Beach seaweed wraps? Then it occurred to her that it had been nearly a year since she’d come back to West Hope. Aside from a few jaunts into the city, she hadn’t gone anywhere. What’s more, she hadn’t missed the suitcases and the airports and the being-waited-on.

  “I wanted a family,” Frank was saying. “I wanted kids. Sondra didn’t. That was the real reason our marriage ended.”

  Lily thought about the eighteen five-year-olds who would be at the kindergarten teacher’s wedding. She could not imagine having one dependent on her. “What about now?” she asked.

  “Well, we’re not too old, you know. Did you ever want kids, Lily?”

  And then it all came back to her. Billy. The car accident. The fact that her parents wouldn’t have been driving back from West Point, across the Bear Mountain Bridge, if Billy hadn’t spent the day with Lily. If Lily hadn’t had a final exam the next day and needed to study. If her father hadn’t said that he’d take Billy home, because her father did everything she’d ever asked, because she was his princess.

  “Lily?” Frank asked.

  “I never really thought about it,” she said through quiet tears, “about having kids.” It wasn’t, of course, the truth, but even under the threat of Sondra, Lily couldn’t tell him about Billy. It would simply hurt too much.

  Lily’s father had liked him; he’d said that Cadet William Sears was the smartest in his class.

  Lily, of course, just thought that he was cute, but she was not quite seventeen, so that was all that mattered.

  She curled up on the sofa now, the place she’d designated as her thinking spot. Frank had asked her to stay with him that night, to sleep beside him in the back room of his store.

  “If nothing else,” he’d said, “it will prove that Sondra won’t pay me any midnight visits.”