"Yes, I made her acquaintance recently when she volunteered to help out with tonight's benefit."
Andy and Sherilyn exchanged puzzled glances.
"I had no idea," he admitted.
"She's lovely," Avery told them.
Sherilyn felt her hands go a little clammy. "Is she here?"
"Yes. I just saw her filling goodie bags in the back."
And has she brought her dear friend Maya along with her? she speculated, then chastised the bitter thought. She wondered if Andy had read her mind when he patted her hand and gave it a squeeze.
"I asked them to seat us all together," Avery said. "You kids and Emma and Jackson and his sisters. We've got the front couple of tables. Let's catch up over dinner. It's so good to have you back with us, Sherilyn."
"Thank you so much."
"Save me a dance, Sheri," Gavin said with a wink.
"Gavin, there's no dance floor at this one," Avery corrected.
Gavin gave Sherilyn a quick grin over his shoulder. "What kind of gala doesn't have a dance floor?" he teased, and the two of them moved on to the next cluster of guests.
Just as Sherilyn spotted Emma and Jackson, someone else moved into the foreground and stole her complete attention. Andy's mother Vanessa wore a simple black chiffon skirt with a red sequined top. Her coiffed blonde hair folded neatly behind her ears adorned with emerald-cut diamond stud earrings.
"Sherilyn, you look lovely," she said in her approach. She paused to kiss Andy's cheek and added, "Darling, you're just as handsome as ever."
She wished she'd known Vanessa would be attending; she could have worked up something to say to her that didn't revolve around hosting an afternoon tea for Andy's ex-girlfriend. She needn't have worried about what to say, however. Vanessa took care of that for her.
"Sherilyn, if you can spare me a moment?"
She hesitated before answering. "Of course."
Following Vanessa's lead, Sherilyn trailed behind her through the double doors and into the entry salon. When they reached the glass windows, Vanessa sat down on one of the velvet benches and patted the cushion beside her. When Sherilyn complied, the woman took her hand and examined her engagement ring.
"Did you choose the ring, or did Andrew?" she asked.
"Andy did."
"Exquisite."
"I think so too."
Vanessa paused for a moment before releasing Sherilyn's hand and shifting toward her. "Andrew was miffed with me about coming home to find Maya there," she said straight out. "And I don't blame him one little bit."
"No?"
"No. He packed his things and took that dreadful dog with him before I could explain anything to him," Vanessa told her. "He's very loyal to you, my dear."
She didn't quite know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything.
"It's one of Andrew's finest qualities." Vanessa pursed her lips. "I'm sure you're well aware."
"Yes."
With a sigh, Vanessa dropped her head for a moment before continuing. "Maya hurt my son very badly, Sherilyn. She broke his heart and drove him all the way to Chicago."
Sherilyn nodded tentatively.
"I love my son, and I missed him very much."
"I'm sure."
"I'm grateful to you for bringing him back home."
"Well, I didn't exactly—"
"Oh, I know. Not technically. But my point is that you make Andrew very happy. And that makes me happy. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Not entirely," she admitted.
"You're going to be part of my family now, dear. A daughter of sorts."
"Yes, I am."
Vanessa sighed again. Sherilyn wondered what on earth she was trying to say.
"I did not invite Maya to my home, Sherilyn."
She looked the woman in the eye. "No?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"She just showed up that day. She asked if she could have a conversation with me. She'd evidently run into Andrew somewhere, old feelings kicked up and—"
"And she wanted your help to get him back," she completed for her.
"Yes. I think so."
Even though she'd known it, Sherilyn hadn't been prepared for the confirmation.
"Mrs. Drummond, I—"
"Vanessa."
"Vanessa, I understand that you don't know me. Andy and I haven't really known one another all that long. But the fact of the matter is that I adore your son. We're just an unexpected . . . fit."
"He says the same about you."
"And we are going to get married. Whether you approve, or whether you don't." She paused and absently twisted her engagement ring. "But I'd prefer it if you did."
After a moment, Vanessa reached out and took both of Sherilyn's hands between her own and smiled. "I do approve, darling."
"You do?"
She laughed. "Would I prefer a different type of ceremony, an expanded guest list, perhaps held in our family church? Yes. In no uncertain terms. Would I trade you in for Maya, or any other woman that didn't make my son light up the way you do? Absolutely not."
Sherilyn hesitated. Skepticism tickled the back of her skull; suspicion waggled about in ricochets. But something told her Vanessa could be trusted. Only the passage of time would eventually tell whether she made peace out of fear of losing her son or whether she actually wanted to forge a solid relationship between them, but for that moment just then, Sherilyn sensed an awkward sincerity in the woman's eyes.
"I hope you mean that," she said.
"I do mean it," Vanessa replied, shaking her hands for emphasis. "Welcome to my family."
Wedding #2 at The Tanglewood Inn
October 2010
Jennifer Aames—Edward Hall
Daytime garden wedding in the courtyard
Menu:
• Appetizers and tea sandwiches
• Specialty drink: Mint julep
Cake:
• English Garden cake with roses and hydrangea
• White cake, white buttercream icing, four layers filled with raspberry ganache
13
I've never seen Fee like this," Emma said in a whisper as she leaned in toward Sherilyn. "To tell you the truth, I didn't think she had a giddy bone in her body."
"And yet . . ."
The two of them watched Fee and Sean where they stood, off to the side of the dining tables, their heads close together, their conversation in hushed, intimate tones. When Fee began to laugh, Emma cracked, "Oh no she didn't. Was that a giggle I just heard come out of Fiona Bianchi?"
"I do believe it was."
Emma leaned back into her chair and glanced over at Jackson next to her. "Well, now I've seen it all. There's nothing left to surprise me."
"Don't be so sure," Jackson replied.
Sherilyn scanned the room for Andy. She found him standing behind his mother's chair, conversing with several other people at the table. When he pressed his hand on his mother's shoulder and smiled at her, Sherilyn's pulse rate twittered from halfway across the room. Vanessa grinned and squeezed her son's hand before nuzzling it to her taut cheek.
Sherilyn wondered what it must be like to share that sort of connection. She'd lost her parents far too early, but she didn't imagine she and either of them had ever looked at each other in that same way. Vanessa and Andy knew one another, truly knew each other. Vanessa had wiped his nose and nursed his wounds, watched him drive a car for the first time, take some lucky girl to prom, graduate college; and Andy knew the tenderness of a mother, remembered Vanessa's face before her first face-lift, had no doubt gone through countless shades of blonde before his mother landed on this most perfect one with golden highlights. She looked and carried herself like a movie star, but Andy could probably remember back to a time—if there was one—when Vanessa's confidence hadn't been fully developed, or when a few less gemstones adorned her perfect long fingers. She envied a solid connection like that, one borne out of history; in fact, she yearned for it.
Sherilyn saw her own life as a series of rolling hills, a dip here and an incline there, but Andy's life was a mountain range, a solid vista of rock upon rock upon rock; a well-built and firmly established saga. Emma and her family were the closest she had to it. Anything that came before them had been washed away in the flood.
She snapped out of her own thoughts the moment Andy's eyes met hers. From twenty yards or more away, he'd plugged in, and the electrical current jolted her a bit. Her heartbeat picked up its rhythm as he moved toward her, smiling one of those all-encompassing Andy Drummond smiles at her, until her breath caught in her throat.
When he reached her, Andy offered his hand. She softly placed hers into it, not sure where he planned to lead her but knowing she would follow him anywhere.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked him when they turned the corner and headed down the corridor, away from the ballroom.
He didn't reply, just tossed her a casual grin over his shoulder as he tightened his grip on her hand and led her around another corner.
"Andy?"
When he finally came to a stop and led her into the darkest corner he could find, Andy turned toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her close to him, so close that his breath felt hot on her cheek. He smelled of distant spices, and his wavy brown hair fell across his forehead as he angled his face down toward her.
Sherilyn's pulse pressed hard against her chest, and a trail of goosebumps skittered up her spine from the spot where Andy's hand rested on the small of her back.
"We've been a little off since we came to Atlanta," he said with a whisper, and she nodded. "I just wanted us to take a minute to remind ourselves who we really are."
Sherilyn fell into his embrace, and his warm breath thrilled her as his lips hovered over hers for a moment before he finally kissed her. She felt that kiss to the tips of her polished toes as she melted into a warm liquid version of herself. Even her hair tingled as flashes of their relationship beginnings simmered over her.
"Tomorrow," he said, his eyes sleepy and intimate.
"Tomorrow?" Her voice was broken, like shards of colored glass.
"Let's go on a date," he suggested. "To remind ourselves."
A brisk flow of eager enthusiasm coursed through her. "Really?"
"I want us to spend the day together. Can you manage it?" She nodded.
"I'll meet you in the restaurant at 8:30, and we'll have breakfast. Afterward, I'll take you to services at the church where I went while I was growing up. Then I'll plan a whole day for just the two of us. No wedding plans or talk of jobs or mortgages or the future. Just you and me. Andy and Sherilyn."
"That sounds—"
Just in the knick of time.
"—really good."
French toast stuffed with strawberry preserves and cream cheese, sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon . . . hot bold-roast coffee with real cream . . . a table by the window just in time for the show as the first winter snowflakes fluttered to the sidewalk. When Andy Drummond planned a date, he left no snowflake unturned. Sherilyn had almost forgotten that.
She wore black leggings beneath a long cornflower blue cashmere sweater with chunky four-inch Mary Janes, doublestrapped with a black leather bow. She was so glad she'd decided to pack her favorite winter coat rather than ship it later with the rest of her things. The black DKNY coat with the standing collar and ruffled edges was a last-minute addition when she packed up the Explorer, and it was perfect with the pale pink gloves, scarf, and furry earmuffs Emma brought her that morning when she heard it might snow.
Andy surprised her when he wore black jeans to church, but she figured whatever he had planned for their date must have required it. When he rounded the car and opened her door, Sherilyn couldn't help grinning like a schoolgirl. He looked so handsome in the camel-colored shawl neck pullover, just a hint of a black tee-shirt peeking out from beneath it, and the
long black wool coat. Sherilyn faced him and pulled his coat shut, fastening the third button.
One side of his mouth curled up into a curious smile, and Andy returned the favor by adjusting the scarf around her neck.
"Ready?" he asked her.
"Ready," she replied. It wasn't quite true, but she decided to be positive.
Andy's family church was indeed a bit of a cathedral, just as he'd said. The walk from the parking lot was a long one, slowed down by the throng of people ahead of them. Massive windows of jeweled glass, stone carvings, and a steeple that reached well into the dark gray sky paved the way into a cavernous nineteenth-century interior where hundreds of people occupied ornate pews and followed the path of scarlet carpet toward the resplendent altar.
"And you didn't feel like we could have a small, intimate ceremony here?" she teased as they followed the neat line of people into the sanctuary.
Andy chuckled, and Sherilyn pulled off her gloves and tucked them into the pocket of her coat. She fluffed her hair as she removed the earmuffs and loosened her scarf. The natural flow of churchgoers landed them at the far end of a row, about two-thirds of the way back from the front of the church, and Andy helped her off with her coat before they sat down. A robed choir began to sing from the loft behind them, accompanied by the largest pipe organ Sherilyn had ever seen.
The church service was lovely, and the minister spoke about the approaching holiday season and the importance of maintaining a simple, basic perspective, which Sherilyn found just the slightest bit silly when issued from the podium of such a massive and elaborate altar. But Reverend Baker seemed sincere enough, his congregation amiable and attentive. She
couldn't help wondering what it must have been like for Andy to share his spiritual upbringing with so many hundreds of other people. The church she'd attended sporadically while growing up could have fit into the choir loft.
Andy had taken her to his church in Chicago on their third date, and she knew she'd found a church home before the service ended that morning. Pastor McCann offered just the right balance of compassion and fervor to reach down into Sherilyn's heart. The contemporary music ministered to her soul, and the people she met there had embraced her into the fold almost immediately. It had been a rough good-bye that last Sunday in Chicago.
As they sang the closing hymn, she found herself hoping she and Andy could find something similar there in Atlanta. Certainly, the right fit in a church home awaited them.
"Andrew?"
They both turned back to find Vanessa waving at them from the midst of a slow-moving crowd. Grinning, she made her way toward them.
"That is you!" she cried as she reached them. "I couldn't believe my eyes!" Vanessa hugged her son, then she surprised Sherilyn by embracing her as well. "I'm so happy to see you both here. What do you think of our family church, Sherilyn? It's quite impressive, don't you think?"
"It is that," she replied. "The glasswork is spectacular."
"Don't get any ideas, Mother," Andy warned her.
"What do you mean?" she casually asked.
"You know exactly what I mean," he said with a grin, and he planted a warm kiss on her cheek. "Where are you parked?"
"Three rows over," she stated. "Will you come to brunch?"
Sherilyn hesitated, not wanting to hurt Vanessa's feelings, but she had no interest in waiting any longer to discover what Andy had planned for them.
"I'm sorry, we can't today," he answered for them. "But if you're free for lunch tomorrow, I thought I'd take you around to have a look at the new house."
"Oh, that would be lovely. Sherilyn, will you join us?"
"I can't tomorrow. I have two new clients coming in for consultations."
"Oh, that's a pity," Vanessa said, and Sherilyn almost believed her. "We'll plan a time to get together soon, just the two of us."
"I'd really like that."
Vanessa tugged on the collar of Andy's coat. "Pick me up at noon, and I'll make a reservation at Shillings."
"Downstairs?" he asked with a Cheshire grin.
> "Don't be ridiculous. We'll dine upstairs, as always."
Andy chuckled and kissed his mother's hand as they parted ways.
"Upstairs is china and linens, I'm guessing," Sherilyn said on their way to the car.
"The Top of the Square," he replied. "And downstairs is The Streetside Grille."
"Pub?"
"Yep."
"Are you sure you weren't adopted?"
"You know, I wonder about that more and more all the time."
"I used to come here as a kid. They only had the large rink back then, but now they've built the smaller one, and they host what's called a cosmic skate on Sunday afternoons."
Andy looped the lace on his skate before kneeling in front of Sherilyn and tying hers.
"What's a cosmic skate?" she asked him.
"Colored lights, fog machine, music. A real production." He offered his hand and helped her to her wobbly feet. She stopped along the way to brush a wad of white dog fur from Andy's sleeve.
"I hope I don't fall," she said softly as they made their way out into the arena. "I don't want to embarrass you."
"You're not going to fall. You always think you're going to, but you'll get your blade legs again the minute you get out on the ice."
With her arm looped tightly through his, Sherilyn allowed him to lead her through the gate and out to the ice. After a few shaky moments, she released her hold on him and grinned.
"Okay," she said over a deep breath. "Okay!"
"Are you good?"
"I'm good," she nodded. "Like riding a bike, right?" "Absolutely."
And in the next moment, she proved him completely wrong when her feet skidded out from under her and she bumped along about six feet on her fanny and klunked to a stop.
Andy placed his hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet again.
They made a jagged circle around the rink, Sherilyn clinging to Andy until the shooting pain of her grip on his arm finally caused it to go numb. On the second time around, she started to relax a little; and on the third lap, she actually grinned at him.
"Andy, I'm so happy you thought of this," she said, looking up at him with a warm smile. She noticed another clump of fur on his shoulder and plucked it off.
Always the Wedding Planner, Never the Bride Page 13
