Summer’s use of we melted my heart. I felt Garrett’s palm wrap around my hand and turned to peer into his lovely hazel eyes. “She’s right. What exactly are we waiting for?”
My fiancé rewarded me with a kiss, to the cheers of our families. Somehow when Summer asked us to move up the wedding, it was a sweet nod to the family we’d be forming, not a nagging directive, as it was perceived when my mother made the same plea.
“This is totally doable.” Rachel’s fingers swiped her tablet’s screen and she held up our summer calendar. “We have several open Friday nights or Sunday afternoons left in the summertime schedule.”
“And all we need to do for our menu is to change some spices and starches to lighten up for summer.” Pia sent us all a dazzling smile. “We can use the same meats, but grilled right here instead.” She included Summer in her plans. “With some tempeh options as well, and the eggplant. We’ll also do cool soups and chic salads. Maybe a couscous and kale side dish, with gazpacho to start. Some mint and lemon cocktails. White wine and Moscato. Pita and hummus and fruit for your guests between the ceremony and the start of the meal.”
“We love it.” Garrett and I gushed over the revamped plans. Pia and Rachel executed an exuberant high five. Those two were thick as thieves already, fast friends and efficient partners despite forming their collaboration a mere twenty-four hours ago. I was excited about Pia’s addition to our team, but a bit wistful, too. I realized with a rush that being officially married would change both my personal and professional dynamic with my sister. No longer would we be able to chitchat into the wee hours in our third-floor apartment after I married and moved out. I was a bit sad and wistful to be leaving this part of my life behind.
Another wave of emotion hit me as I observed my mother holding aloft her flute of champagne and talking animatedly with Lorraine and Summer. This feeling I had about my sister and Pia forming such a great working relationship already, and my impending move, was probably akin to my mom’s feelings about Bev. She must’ve just been worried about our special bond, and keeping it. I felt a rush of pathos for her, and vowed to include my mom in my plans.
“If we’re really moving this shindig up, we need to decide where we’re going to set up house.” Garrett turned to me with an insistent but excited gleam in his hazel eyes. “Maybe this new plan to get married this summer is just the nudge we need.”
My sister must have supersonic hearing, or a newfound ability to read lips. “Where are you guys going to live?” She gestured above her. “It’ll be kind of crowded in the apartment.”
“You’re kicking me out?” I drew my sister’s laughter with my mock outrage. She already knew Garrett and Summer wouldn’t be moving in.
“Truman and I had an idea the other day,” Lorraine tentatively put in. Her eyes sparkled as she set down her long-stemmed champagne flute. “I don’t want to be too for ward.” Her visage dimmed for a bit. Lorraine had nothing to worry about. She was the least pushy person I knew. “What if you built a new structure on the land adjoining Thistle Park and our backyard?”
The room grew quiet as Garrett and I considered his mother’s suggestion.
“A new house to join our families. Literally.” Garrett slowly nodded. He turned to gauge my reaction. I wordlessly answered him with my second spate of emotional tears in one day. Garrett retrieved a tissue and gave me an embrace as I dried my eyes.
“I love it, Lorraine.” I’d first met Summer the day Rachel and I moved into Thistle Park three years ago. She’d walked the length of the woods that began on my acreage and ended abutting her grandparents’ backyard. She still often traversed the path leading through the woods to visit me at Thistle Park. A cottage or small cabin constructed deep in the woods, but adjoining the two pieces of land, would keep me close to work, and Summer close to the grandparents who had helped raise her, but give us all much-needed space to grow and thrive. We’d be joining our families in a symbolic and practical manner. It was a beautiful idea.
“But that might mess up a summer wedding.” Dark clouds gathered in my mom’s eyes. “I’m not sure you could build a new abode fast enough to be ready after the wedding!” Carole’s voice rose to a frenzied pitch, and Doug placed a steadying hand on her arm, which she batted away.
Thanks for the wet blanket, Mom.
I sighed and moved to acquiesce to my mom.
“Oh, give it a break.” Rachel was already on the case. “Jesse Flowers can do it. He’s like a contractor superhero, and I’m sure he’d jump at the chance to help Mallory.” Rachel suggested Bev’s fiancé, a master restorer and builder, for the job. I had no doubt Jesse could do it, but I hesitated to ask.
“I’m sure Jesse would love this job,” I mused. “But he is getting married in a few weeks, then off on his honeymoon with Bev and Preston.” I didn’t want to saddle him with a new project so close to his wedding to Bev.
Summer stared at her hands. She glanced up at me, a rich berry staining her cheeks. She must have been pretty smitten with Preston to break out in a blush at his mere mention.
“Yes, Jesse is just the person for the job!” My mom rubbed her hands together, dismissing my concern. I sent Rachel and Pia a snicker. “And I will design the interior of your new abode!” My mom prattled on with ideas for a structure that hadn’t even been designed yet. She seemed to have forgotten all about her promise to help me find a dress at Bev’s store. I felt my heart grow warm. My mom would be able to contribute in her own way, and not have to wrestle with Pia and Bev and Rachel taking over the wedding planning.
Now I just have to get Jesse on board. And speed up my wedding, and move out of the third floor.
“I’ll call Jesse right away,” I pledged. My earlier elation and gratefulness for Rachel and Pia planning my wedding was severely subdued. Moving forward with our plans was a bit like playing Whac-A-Mole. The wedding itself was in great hands, but if we stuck with the plan to move things up, I’d be inconveniencing Jesse and heading up a super-fast construction project. I stood and nervously grabbed a second flute of champagne from the sideboard. Perhaps I should have stuck with the sparkling punch Summer was consuming.
“We don’t have to do this right now,” Garrett murmured into my ear. My tall beau, a foot and two inches taller than me, leaned down to deliver his comforting message. “The house built between Thistle Park and my parents’ backyard sounds perfect. But don’t forget, we’re in charge here.”
I nodded, refreshed by his reminder.
“I think it should be at least four bedrooms,” I heard my mother gush loudly from across the room.
“Why?” Summer wrinkled her nose and popped a piece of pine-nut-topped ciabatta into her mouth. She finished chewing and corrected my mom. “We’ll only need two bedrooms, Carole.”
My mother sent Summer a sly look. “You’ll need the extra room for my grandbabies!”
Mic drop.
I coughed and sputtered as a bubbly trickle of sparkling red wine made its way to my lungs instead of my stomach. Garrett soothed me and sent Carole a well-earned death glare.
Summer clapped her hands. “I knew it, I knew it!”
I glanced at my midsection, wondering what had given all assembled the wrong idea, beyond my mom’s wackadoodle announcement.
Summer grinned. “I wondered why you guys were actually okay with moving up the wedding, and now I know!” She nimbly plucked the flute from my grasp. “Should you be drinking that in your condition?!”
“Mallory, Garrett, why didn’t you tell me?!” Lorraine hopped up from her seat and nearly danced a jig, the most animated I’d ever seen her.
“And how did you manage to keep this a secret from me?” Rachel shook her head, a warm smile lighting up her face.
I turned to Garrett. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a semitruck.
Make that a deer flattened by a semitruck.
I felt him take a deep breath as he dropped my hand.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. There’s been a
mistake. We’re not having a baby.” Garrett’s voice boomed across the office space. The force of his pronouncement nearly knocked the wind out of me.
I felt each pair of eyes swivel from my fiancé to me to gauge my reaction. I didn’t have to guess that I must have appeared absolutely crushed. Garrett turned to take in my stricken expression and gently amended his statement. “Not anytime soon, that is.”
I guess I have my answer.
I was stunned by the double whammy of my mom’s crassness, and Garrett’s forceful rejection of having another child. A child I wasn’t even sure I’d wanted until yesterday when I’d cuddled little Miri.
“Mallory—” Garrett seemed to have realized the harshness of his statement. I gently placed my hand on his arm and shook my head.
“There’s no bun in this oven.” I gave a shaky laugh. My eyes must have taken on a desperate cast, because everyone resumed their chatter.
“Sweetheart.” Garrett’s voice grew tender as he turned to face me. “I guess we need to talk.”
I gave him what felt like a weak smile. “It’s three now. Aren’t you meeting a client in half an hour?” My reminder wasn’t entirely innocent. It reeked of dismissal, and we both knew it. But I didn’t want to have this conversation here. In fact, I just wanted to sink into the polished wood floor.
My fiancé flinched and sent me a wounded look before he glanced at his watch and let out a sigh. “You’re right.” He brushed a kiss on my forehead. “Thank you, Rachel, and Pia, and Mom. I’m sorry, I have to run back to the office.” He ducked out of the room after giving me one final, long, regretful gaze. I took in his retreat and breathed a sigh of relief.
Uh-oh.
I’d never been happy to see my beau go. But after airing our dirty-relationship laundry in front of our families, I was ready for a breather. I felt exhausted by my roller-coaster emotions. I’d been elated by the cottage idea, then stunned minutes later by Garrett’s unexpected reaction to the topic of having kids in the near or far future. But what upset me even more was my inability to gauge my own reaction. In truth, I’d only given the idea the most fleeting of thoughts up until yesterday. Strange thoughts and emotions I needed to dissect were eddying and bubbling up from my subconscious.
Summer, at fourteen, was perfect and amazing. She was the kindest and most vivacious stepdaughter a woman could hope for. Before this week, my mom’s annoying tick-tock comments had been a mere blip to dismiss.
“Garrett?” I ran into the hall, desperate to catch my fiancé before he left.
Too late.
I watched from the open front door as his Accord made its way down the long front drive. But then the vehicle stopped, executed a three-point turn, and drove up to the front of the mansion.
“I don’t want to leave things like this.” I cleared my throat and dragged my gaze to meet Garrett’s. “First things first. I’m not sure what I think about expanding our family. But what I am sure about is that I’m unbelievably excited to get married. Let’s focus on that.”
The tense line running down the length of his broad shoulders relaxed. He gave me a thankful smile and found my hand. “I don’t want to close that door. I just honestly hadn’t given it too much thought.” A painful wince marred his lovely features. He pinched his nose and let out a sigh.
Uh-oh.
I braced myself for what was to come.
“Your mother—”
I interrupted his declaration with a whoop of laughter. “My mother is ridiculous.”
“Let’s just say I wasn’t ready to have a grandbaby-for-Carole-Shepard talk in front of a room of people.” The corners of his mouth curved up in a rueful smile. “Though I believe her heart is in the right place.”
I kissed my fiancé goodbye and he left once more. I returned to the house feeling much lighter and at ease. My worry over the possibly-crafted-by-Betsy-Ross veil seemed long gone. I had bigger fish to fry, but I had my family and Garrett to navigate the upcoming changes in my life.
When I returned to my office, the wedding planning session was winding to a close. Carole looked appropriately chagrined. I gave her an expansive smile and saw her relax. She’d been too nebby—that’s Western Pennsylvania parlance for nosy—but Garrett was right, her heart was in the right place. A thirsty-for-itty-bitty-grandbabies place, but nonetheless, a well-meaning one.
Still, I couldn’t help feeling a smidge sad at all of the plans coalescing at lightning speed. I wouldn’t be living with my sister anymore. We’d grown so close these last two years, rooming just feet away. Rachel seemed to sense my sadness. She crossed the room and slung her arm around me.
“One of our vendors is calling us back!” Pia appeared as well and held up her cell. “This is the one that I wasn’t sure could get us the lavender tablecloths in time for next week.”
Rachel dropped her arm and went scurrying for her desk. “Hold on a sec before you answer, I’ll get you the file.”
They make a great team.
I reflexively started to wander over to my desk to help out. Cordials and Cannonballs was a mere day away, and I wanted to go over my checklist as the head planner for the event.
“Uh-uh. You deserve a day off, and to bask in the glow of our lovely plans for you.” Rachel nearly frog-marched me out of the room.
“But Cordials and Cannonballs—”
“We can handle it, Mallory. You did all the heavy lifting, and Pia and I can tie up the last few loose strings.” Rachel gave me a not unkind, sisterly push out into the hallway. When the door shut crisply behind me and the other guests, I realized the meeting was over and my role as bride for this planning session was, too. I bade my parents and Summer and Lorraine goodbye.
“Meow.”
My Creamsicle-orange fluff ball of a petite cat seemed to notice my confusion.
“That makes two of us, little one.” I picked up the little gal and was treated to an outsized purr. Together we stared at the paneled door to my office. It may as well have been Fort Knox instead of the welcoming space where I spent most of the workweek. There was no use staying downstairs. Rachel and Pia had ushered me out, forcing a rest from work that I no longer wanted. My brain was buzzing with alarm about my personal life, and work would help me avoid untangling all of the knots I’d just discovered. But it was time to face the music, and my cat and I curled up on a fluffy window seat, lost in thought.
* * *
Several hours and cups of Lady Grey tea later and I felt a lot better. I’d passed the time going over Rachel and Pia’s presentation, which they’d thoughtfully emailed to me, as if I were a real client.
You are a real client.
I smiled at my new status and made my way downstairs after I saw Pia’s tiny red Nissan Versa proceed down the drive. It was past dinnertime. I assumed my sister and Pia had shared a meal in the office, a ritual Rachel and I partook in several days of the week.
I was about to help myself to some goodies from the tasting. But my heart skipped a beat when a shadow appeared over my shoulder.
“Greetings, Mallory.” Truman offered me a smile, but his attempted cheeriness couldn’t conceal a hint of worry. He must’ve wordlessly entered the kitchen from the back porch. I cursed my efficient decision to give the usually whiny hinges to the door a good dose of WD-40. Now I had no warning when someone came into the kitchen.
“Geez Louise!” I dropped a basket of the yummy varieties of olive, sun-dried tomato, and pine-nut focaccia my sister and Pia had whipped up. Thankfully the precious cargo within remained in the basket, secured by the fall-leaf-patterned napkin wrapped around the bread.
“Sorry to startle you. I’d be on high alert, too, after Helene busted in here.”
“No worries.” I willed my still-racing heart to slow down as I busied my hands pouring two quick glasses of iced tea with sprigs of mint. I grabbed little tureens and Tupperware containers, which held the last servings of food from the yummy tasting, from the fridge.
“I know you have to work, bu
t you can still sample everything my sister and Pia made for our families at the tasting.” I loaded the goodies, two sets of silverware, and several plates onto a wicker tray. Truman gallantly picked up the heavy feast and followed as I motioned for him to follow me to the back porch. I set our drinks on a low table overlooking the vast gardens of Thistle Park. Neon-green lightning bugs lit the air in an errant polka-dot pattern, warming up for the final setting of the sun.
“What’s up?” I gestured to the porch swing and the chief eased into it with a grateful sigh. He took a swig of the iced tea and wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.
“I hope it’s cooler tomorrow for Cordials and Cannonballs.” He gave up on his ministrations to his forehead with his hand and liberated an old-fashioned cloth handkerchief from his pocket to assist. “You all set for tomorrow?”
I winced as I recalled my office door shutting me out a few hours ago. “Mm-hm. Rachel and I have a new assistant on board. She’s been a tremendous help on only her second day on the job. We’re all set.”
I hope.
I suppressed a giggle as Truman shut his hazel eyes, so similar to Garrett’s, and began swinging on the porch swing. He had to bend his knees and flare his legs out to avoid scraping them on the green-painted floor, a result of his six-feet-four stature. He looked for a moment like a little kid all dressed up in a policeman’s uniform, rather than the esteemed chief he was. But suddenly his eyes flew open, and he stilled his swinging with his feet.
“I hear congratulations are in order. Lorraine told me you and Garrett are excited about the idea of building a new home for the two of you and Summer on the shared land between our two houses.”
I nodded eagerly, embarrassed not to have already thanked Truman for his and Lorraine’s generosity. But he cut me off at the pass.
“But that’s not really why I’m here. I want to talk about that veil.”
Uh-oh.
I’d pushed the filmy scrap of fabric out of my mind in order to deal with the other issues of the day. I’d barely thought of the thing while we all convened in my office, a mere few feet away from the safe. I bought myself some time by lighting a row of citronella candles on the porch. If I didn’t hurry, the mosquitoes would arrive in the gloaming and make an even bigger feast out of yours truly than the dainty leftovers Truman and I were making short work of.
Veiled in Death Page 9
