Save The Date

by K. S. Thomas

  “So, tell me, what has little Lissy been up to in the last seventeen years? I mean, aside from getting into the bridal business.”

  The sound of his voice snapped me back to reality where I found myself staring quite inappropriately, and not entirely discreetly, at the man’s groin area. If he saw me doing so, he didn’t let on.

  Attempting to sound as casual as possible, and to hide my overall flustered demeanor, I replied, “Oh, you know. A little of this…little of that.”

  He turned back to read my expression. “What exactly are this and that?”

  I had no idea.

  “I just mean, I haven’t been doing anything out of the ordinary.” Bullshit. Nothing about my life had been ordinary. Why the hell was I insisting on selling myself short?

  Emerson’s brow scrunched together curiously. “Really? That’s not what I hear.”

  Now it was my turn to be curious. “Why? What have you heard?”

  “Well, according to your grandmother, you’ve been quite the go-getter. And not just as a designer, but also as a real estate mogul. To hear her tell it, you’ve been kicking ass and taking names.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but sure. I suppose you could say I’ve been unusually successful for someone my age.” I felt a quick tug at my line and went to reel it in. The pressure ceased instantly and I knew what I’d find as soon as the hook broke water. “Damn.” The worm was gone. I’d have to start all over.

  Emerson leaned his pole up against a large boulder along the waterline and came to sit beside me while I proceeded with my baiting routine.

  “Must keep pretty busy with so much going on. How do you make time to just sit back and enjoy life?”

  “I like being busy. Besides, the real estate thing isn’t so much a business as it is my father’s idea of daddy daughter time.” It was true. After the divorce he’d been at a loss concerning the whole parenting thing. Suddenly without my mother to back him up and tell him what to do, he didn’t seem to have a clue as to how to fill the time he had to spend with me come every other Friday. So, he’d done the only thing he knew how to do. He’d taken me to work. “We never really had much in common. His way of fixing that was to teach me all about the thing he loves, real estate. Guess it was easier than trying to get to know his teenage daughter.”

  I was trying to make light of it, but judging from Emerson’s expression, he had set aside the joke and zoned right in on the heart of the matter.

  “Sounds like your dad’s missing out.”

  “Maybe.” I looked down at the innocent little worm lying curled up in the palm of my hand. Then, casually, I turned it, letting him slide down into the dirt below. “Truth is, it’s better this way. With the relationship we have now, I know exactly what I’ve got. I have something I can depend on. And it’s a lot less heartbreaking this way.” I smiled wryly. It had been a long time since I’d talked to anyone about my dad. Maybe ever.

  Emerson watched me thoughtfully for a moment longer as if he was contemplating whether or not to continue to pursue the conversation. Then, apparently thinking better of it, he tilted his head to the side, the mischievous look returning.

  “Well, we don’t seem to be having much luck here. Let’s get going. I’ve got a better idea.”

  He jumped up and went to retrieve his pole.

  I stayed seated on my log a second longer, mumbling, “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “You’ll like this. Promise,” he chuckled and before I knew it, we were back in the woods making our way to the rickety old shack of a fishing shed.

  After dropping off our gear, we headed back down toward the main barn. I felt a bit of panic set in.

  “Um, you do know that I don’t know how to ride, right?” I felt like I was bringing shame to the Ashcraft name just by saying the words out loud.

  Emerson nodded. “Not to worry. I’ll teach you.” Then he looked back at me, “But not today.”

  The relief was short lived as I began to wonder what else he had up his sleeve. How much could there possibly be to do around here? When I saw him approach an old pick-up truck I concluded I’d been on the right track with my thinking.

  “Wait, I can’t leave. Savannah will be by soon.”

  “I know.” He was doing that all-knowing cocky grin thing. It was aggravatingly sexy.

  “Then what’s with the truck?”

  He held the door open for me. “Climb in and find out.”

  Reluctantly, I slid into the seat. The passenger side was filled with lead ropes and other random items I didn’t recognize but assumed were in some way horse related, leaving me no choice but to sit awkwardly in the middle, unable to avoid having various parts of my body touching his.

  As I continued to try and keep myself in my own seat, Emerson seemed completely unaware. If anything, he seemed to spread out further, repeatedly brushing my knee with his hand as he shifted gears on the old stick shift.

  When we reached a gate, he jumped out to open it before hurrying back to drive through and then run back to close it again behind us.

  “You know, you could have just asked me to get the gate.”

  He shook his head, laughing softly. “You’ve been hanging around with the wrong kind of men, Lissy.”

  “Maybe you need to hang around with some more capable women,” I huffed.

  “It’s not about that. A gentleman doesn’t do what he does because he thinks a woman needs him to. He does it because he wants to.” Then he turned to face me. “And you really ought to learn to let him.”

  Maybe he was onto something.

  I kept my mouth shut the rest of the drive and enjoyed the view. We were slowly cruising through another pasture. This one had at least twenty or so horses in it. They looked young, but considerably older than the foals he’d shown me earlier.

  When we reached the top of a small hill, Emerson stopped the truck and got out. Then he held out his hand for me to take and, in spite of my instincts not to, I took it.

  Together we walked to the back of the truck where he lowered the tailgate and promptly grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me on top of it.

  I was about to make my argument for capable women again, when he climbed up as well and gestured for me to have a seat on the hay bales he had loaded in the back.

  To my surprise the hay was quite soft and it smelled amazing as I leaned into it. The only thing more wonderful than the scent was the view. Emerson had strategically parked the truck in such a way that we could see the entire farm from where we were seated.

  “Wow. This is beautiful.”

  “Well, I did promise you a tour of the place earlier, so…” He lifted his arm and pointed over to the far right corner nearest to the road. “That right there is one of our equipment barns. It’s the largest one we have on the property and it’s where we keep all of our large tractors and such.”

  I nodded. “So, it’s a garage.”

  He smirked. “Sure. Then, straight across the front of the property you see the training tracks which consist of a 1 1/8-mile main track, a 7/8-mile turf track and a one-mile, L-shaped jogging track, which borders the main track.”

  “So knowledgeable. You sound like such a proper tour guide. Do this often, do you?”

  This time he just ignored me and went on as if I hadn’t interrupted again.

  “Over to the left are two barns, both containing thirty-six stalls each. This is where we keep the horses in training. Not all of them are ours. Many of them come here just to use the facility.” He shifted his weight and pointed at a thick cluster of trees beyond the stables. “Which is why we have several guest houses on the property straight through that wooded patch. Back there is also where you’ll find Burke’s house and some homes for some of the other full-timers.”

  I nodded. It took me a second, but then I remembered. Burke was the barn manager. “You live back there, too?”

  Emerson shook his head. “No. I’ve got a place just up the road.” Then he went back to giving me hi
s tour without skipping a beat. “You already know the broodmare barn and clearly you’re aware of the main house. We’ve seen several pastures and been down to the creek, which really only leaves the round pens and walkers over that way. And then of course, the last of the stables.”

  I took it all in. The few times in my life I’d actually been here, no one had ever taken the time to explain to me what everything was. Maybe they just assumed I wasn’t interested. Or maybe they thought I just wouldn’t understand. Either way, they’d been wrong and I was grateful to Emerson for finally sharing with me what my own family hadn’t.

  “It’s stunning, isn’t it? I mean, Manhattan is gorgeous. The architecture, the ambiance, but this, this is breathtaking.”

  He bumped his knee against mine. “I told you, you’d like it.”

  “And you were right.” I beamed up at him. After all this time, Emerson hadn’t changed at all. He was still the same patient and kind person I’d been so enamored with as a little girl. Only this time around, I had a very clear idea of what it was that made him so incredibly dreamy.

  Watching her sitting there beside me with the sun dancing on her long brown hair, all I could think about was touching it. Curling it around my fingers, feeling the soft strands as I ran them through my hands. I still couldn’t believe I was sitting there with the same little girl who had followed me around all summer all those years ago. Only there was nothing little about her. Lissy was all grown up. And not just physically. Listening to her talk, I was caught off guard by how mature she was. Liss was smart. From the sounds of it, she’d already figured out more at twenty-three than I had by the time I was thirty. Not to mention her accomplishments, which put mine to shame even now. But not for long. Soon. Soon, even I would have something to offer to someone like her. Although I could hardly imagine why she would want it.

  Nevertheless, there was something about being with her. It was comfortable. Easy. Exciting. And nothing had excited me this way in a long time.

  Chapter 5

  I have no idea how much time we spent sitting out in the middle of that field under the warmth of the afternoon sun, but somewhere along the way, all thoughts of Savannah and her wedding had been completely forgotten. Thankfully, Emerson had spotted her Jag coming up the long winding driveway and had gotten me back down to the main house moments later.

  Rather than come in, he simply dropped me at the front door and went on to other things. Guess he did officially have a job to do around here and it likely wasn’t to keep me entertained.

  I could feel a glow on my skin as I stepped inside the air conditioned house. The onset of a tan I hoped.

  I was about to begin a thorough search of the house for Savannah when I heard a loud squeal coming from the stairs.

  “Calista!” She was running, skipping steps as she went until she was close enough to fling both arms around me, jumping and giggling as she dragged me around in excited circles which were quickly making me dizzy.

  “Hey Savannah.” Even after not having seen her in nearly a decade I would have recognized her anywhere. She was an Ashcraft through and through with those big blonde locks, bright blue eyes and pointy little nose. Not to mention she had the trademark Ashcraft dimples and the voluptuous curves all the women seemed to have been blessed with. Well, all except one. Yet another reason to make me wonder just how the hell I wound up sharing a branch with everyone on this family tree. I didn’t possess a single one of those traits. Although my mother certainly did. Guess I was more Luvalle than Ashcraft. At least in the looks department.

  When she finally let me go, she took a step back, still holding onto my wrist and gave me a dramatic once over. “Damn girl. Look at you all grown up. And I’m lovin’ this city meets country thing you’ve got goin’ on! Wait ‘til the boys ‘round here get a look at ya. They’ll be all tongues pantin’ and tails pointin’.”

  “Holy shit, you southerners are crude. That’s the second penis reference I’ve heard today.”

  “Just tellin’ it like it is, darlin’.” Savannah giggled in that cute feminine way I’d never quite mastered. I’d told myself I’d rather die than giggle that way, but truth was, I felt a pang of jealousy anytime I witnessed a successful delivery. Naturally, it always came from someone who was already overflowing with all things lady-like. Even if they were talking about erections while doing so.

  “Well, I don’t know about all that. I do know that you’re gonna be scraping your groom’s jaw off the ground by the time I have you walking down the aisle. Come on, I sketched some stuff on the plane I want to show you.” I headed for the stairs and gestured for her to follow.

  Once upstairs in my room, we had a seat on my bed. I pulled my sketchbook from my bag and began to flip through the pages.

  “How’d you end up without a dress anyway? I mean, I know your wedding plans got tossed by the wayside by that rogue wedding planner, but didn’t you do any dress shopping on your own?”

  Savannah nodded dramatically. “Sure did. It was gorgeous, too. Most beautiful dress you could possibly imagine – well, scratch that, it probably doesn’t apply to you – but it was definitely the most beautiful dress I’d ever imagined.”

  I looked up from my pile of papers. “Then what happened to it?”

  “That bitch stole it! I mean it. She just stole it right out from under me, same as she did that groom. Of course, she didn’t come right out with her thievin’. No, she was way too clever for that. She was there when I bought the dress, so she knew I needed a few modifications made on account of my waist bein’ so tiny and my chest bein’, well, less tiny. Anyway, she insisted I let her take the dress to her seamstress. Said she was the best in all of Kentucky and I didn’t want to take any chances with a dress that stunning. Ha! Seamstress my ass! After she took off, I searched hell and high water for this mysterious seamstress only to find out she didn’t even exist. So, now here I am, two weeks before my wedding and I’ve got no cake, no venue and no dress.” Thoughtfully she reached for the sketches in my lap and began to skim them. “Suppose things could be worse though. I mean, that other bride wound up with no groom.”

  I laughed dryly. “Yeah, that would be worse.” I pulled my feet up and crossed them in an attempt to get more comfortable. “Speaking of, who’s the lucky fellow anyway?”

  Without taking her eyes from the images in her hands, she said, “I don’t know how lucky he is. He’s been telling me what a pain in his ass I am for as long as I can remember.”

  “You two grew up together?” My heart was starting to race and I didn’t even know why.

  “Not exactly. He grew up a great deal sooner than I did.” She did the giggling thing again. “He’s my big brother’s best friend.”

  No. I could feel the blood draining from my face as she happily chatted on. “Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy gettin’ him to see me as girlfriend material. Although, these babies certainly didn’t hurt.” She pushed her arms together, pressing her breasts upward, just in case I hadn’t understood what she’d meant by ‘these babies’. Rest assured, I had.

  “Well, I guess he came around, huh? I mean, now that you’ve graduated to ‘wife material’.” I was trying my hardest to sound happy for her, but the truth was I was pissed. How the hell had Emerson just spent all afternoon with me and never once mentioned that it was his wedding I had come to town to help plan? Didn’t that seem like a pertinent piece of information? Who the hell neglected to share something like that?

  From there things only got worse when my anger faded and transformed to humiliation. What an idiot I’d been, thinking he had actually flirted with me. I was just as delusional now as I’d been all those years ago when I’d convinced myself that Emerson and I would end in our own little happily ever after. Really, had he treated me any different today than he’d treated me back then?

  I glanced up from my internal meltdown to see Savannah holding up one of the tentative gowns I’d drawn up on the plane.

  “This one. It’s so sexy an
d classy. Can you really make me a dress like this in time for the wedding?” Her eyes were full of desperate hope.

  I took the drawing to see which dress she’d chosen. It was a slimming mermaid silhouette with crystal hand-beading which framed the plunging V-neckline and sheer cap sleeves. Lace appliqués and more scattered beading would highlight the sheer back bodice, which I’d designed complete with cascading crystal buttons to conceal the zipper closure. A scalloped chapel length train finished off the stunning gown. I wasn’t surprised she liked it. I did my best work under pressure and a gown like this would hug her curves in all the right ways. Emerson would surely appreciate it. The thought alone made me want to rip the sketch to shreds.

  Instead I nodded confidently. “Absolutely. If this is the dress you want, then this is the dress you shall get. But you don’t have to pick one from the stack. I’d be more than happy to draw up something from scratch for you. I just thought I’d show you these to give you some ideas of what I can do and what I imagined might suit you.”

  Savannah reached over and repeatedly pointed at the paper in my hands. “No, this one. This one, just the way it is. It’s perfect. In fact, it’s even more perfect than the dress I had. I oughta send that thievin’ bitch a thank you card.”

  I grinned at my cousin. I couldn’t even stay mad at her. It wasn’t her fault I’d temporarily gotten lost in my childhood fantasy while she’d grown up and created herself a more permanent reality.

  “If you’re sure, then let’s get this show on the road. I’ll need some measurements from you and then a vehicle of some sort to get into town so I can start acquiring the needed materials.”

  Savannah’s eyes got wide. “You mean to tell me, you’re going to actually make this dress yourself?”

  “Well, yeah. Who did you think was going to do it? Think I packed a bunch of dress elves in my carryon?”