“You know… I think it’s officially mimosa o’clock. What do you think?”
An hour later, my parents, my sisters, and my in-laws had arrived, and I was trying my best to get everyone fed and situated.
“Well, I thought this was a sit-down breakfast,” Lillian, my mother-in-law, complained as she stood in the buffet line that we’d created.
I was never really sure how to handle this relationship. Are your in-laws still your in-laws when your husband is dead? took a deep breath and barely refrained from rolling my eyes. “I can make your plate for you,” I offered, attempting to be generous.
“No, thank you. I was just commenting on what I expected.”
“I see. Well, I’m hosting a lot of things this weekend with very little help, so I figured a buffet was fine for today. I thought it would be nice to have a more intimate setting for family as well.”
“Well, it’s definitely intimate,” the older woman groused, and I decided to leave the conversation there and grab another mimosa.
“Everything looks beautiful, Ms. MacFarland,” Brandi said as she sat down next to Jared with her plate.
The table I’d rented for this brunch was covered with white cloths. The floral centerpieces were made with flowers from my garden, lilacs, and hydrangeas, mostly because Brandi said they were her favorite.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” I said, and the smile I gave her didn’t feel forced this time.
“Really, Darcy. You have a lovely home,” Joseph, Brandi’s father, said. “And a really beautiful garden.”
“Absolutely beautiful,” her mother Denise added. “But it seems like a lot of work.”
“It is!” I agreed, coming around the table to sit next to Jared. “But I find gardening cathartic and soothing.” I was just about to pull out my chair when Tommy appeared at my shoulder.
“I’ll get that for you,” he murmured, pulling the chair out for me.
Startled by his sudden closeness, I took a deep, steadying breath as I sat down. “Thank you, Tommy.”
“No problem. I’m at your service this weekend. Remember?” He cupped my shoulder in a way that probably looked completely harmless to everyone at the table, but the feel of his hand on my bare shoulder sent a rash of goosebumps racing across the surface of my skin.
“At her service?” my sister James asked. “How does one sign up for this one-on-one service?”
“By the groom’s request,” Jared said before Tommy could respond. “Mom doesn’t have a date for the wedding, so I wanted to make sure she had someone to look out for her. Who better than my best friend?”
When I planned the place settings for this brunch, I’d seated Tommy across from Jared because I figured that the two friends would want to chat. Now, I realized that it meant that he was sitting across from me, too, so that when he winked in response to Jared’s statement, I saw it and the borderline lewd smile that curved the corner of his lips.
“Lucky girl,” my sister Amelia said, a little tinge of judgment in her voice and with good reason. Keeping up appearances was important to Amelia, and attending my son’s wedding without a date just wasn’t done. She’d tried to set me up with numerous men leading up to this wedding, and I’d turned every one of them down. So the idea that my son’s best man would be my escort definitely wasn’t something she would be okay with.
“I told both of you that this is completely unnecessary. Frankly, I find the idea that you think I need to be babysat a little insulting.”
“Don’t think of it as babysitting,” Tommy said, picking up his Bloody Mary. “Think of it as… Mother of the Groom Concierge Service. Here to assist, support, and satisfy your needs.”
It wasn’t unlike the flirting he’d always done with me over the years, so everyone laughed, but my cheeks went hot, and I had to avert my eyes because the idea of Tommy going above and beyond to satisfy my personal needs this weekend had me thinking really filthy things. “Concierge to the Mother of the Groom, huh? In addition to whatever best man duties you have, this weekend? Are you paying this man, Jared?” I asked, a weak attempt at making light of what felt like a suggestive statement.
“You’ve seen my schedule. Most of that stuff has been planned for months now. And aren’t you the one who said, nay, demanded that I have some fun this weekend?”
“Babysitting your best friend’s mom is not what most people would call fun, Tommy.”
“Hmmm… I don’t know, Darcy. Thinking of absurd things to say to make you blush feels like a lot of fun to me.”
And then, right on cue, I did blush. “Behave, Tommy,” I scolded lightly.
“What’s the fun in that?” he asked.
Mrs. MacFarland, Shannon’s mother, cleared her throat, and thankfully, that was enough to douse the heat that Tommy was stoking between us.
“Where’s Jolene? She did say she would bring Dylan, right?” Jared asked.
“They’re probably just running. He’ll be here soon.” I gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze. But that was a lie, wasn’t it? Jolene had RSVP’d, but I had no idea if she was running late or had decided not to attend.
Dead for damn near seven years, and I’m still covering for him.
Tommy cleared his throat to draw my attention and gave me a questioning look. I gave him a subtle head shake. This weekend was not about Jolene or her affair with my husband, and I refused to make it about them.
“So, Tomás,” my sister Amelia began, leaning forward so she could look down the table at him. “When was the last time you were in Charleston? Seems like it’s been a while?”
“It has. Hm. I think the last time I was in town, you were pregnant with your first kid,” he said, gesturing toward my younger sister’s pregnant belly.
“Oh, well, it’s been a while then,” James responded. “This one is her fourth!”
Gradually, the group at the table began to make idle conversation. Surface deep, but pleasant enough considering the group I had gathered here. Another hour more, and—
“I hope y’all didn’t eat all the bacon!” Jolene bellowed as she came around the corner.
I was almost instantly annoyed by her presence. I couldn’t decide what was worse — showing up late or not showing up at all. Once I saw her, that decision fell solidly into the showing up late column.
Shannon cheated on me pretty much the entire marriage. There was a time when I thought it was just something I had to endure. Men like him, men with massive egos and just as much ambition, needed more than one woman — or so I’d been told. And I guess I sort of made my peace with that in the early years.
Then he took up with her. Jolene Kirkland.
How ridiculous was it that her name was actually fucking Jolene?
She a younger version of me. Tall, fit, brown-skinned, half my age, and determined to be wife number two.
I spent more years than he deserved fighting for my marriage before he died. I’d actually come to the conclusion that we should get a divorce just before he had a heart attack. That should be the end of it, right? Oh, but it wasn’t because now, Jolene Kirkland was attending my son’s wedding, and that just seemed un-fucking-fair.
Jared stood up and made his way around the table to greet Dylan who ran at him full tilt and leaped into his arms. The little boy favored him so much that it made me uncomfortable. It was as if Shannon had tried to cut and paste himself into a younger version of the family he already had.
“Hey, Jojo,” he greeted the other woman with a hug and a kiss while holding Dylan close to his side. “You remember Brandi,” Jared said, pointing to his wife-to-be, who smiled awkwardly.
“I sure do. It’s good to see you, Brandi.” Jolene’s eyes landed on me, and something like surprise flitted through those brown eyes of hers.
“Darcy…” she said, making his way to the only empty seats at the table, which unfortunately were at my end. “You’re looking well.” She came around the table to greet me and I stood so that we could exchange an awkward embrace and a
kiss on the cheek. Why she felt compelled to do that, I didn’t know.
“Thank you, Jolene,” I said with a tight smile.
“Jojo,” she corrected as if it wasn’t incredibly infantile to be called a name better suited to a kid in pigtails.
“Right,” I said with a toothy grin, feeling mean enough to bite. “Did you get caught up at the office? Brunch started hours ago.”
She gave me a sheepish grin as Jared pulled out her chair. “You know how it is.”
“I sure do.”
“Mom…” Jared warned in a soft voice.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized under my breath. “Excuse me, y’all,” I said, standing up from the table. Tommy made as if to rise from his seat, and I dismissed him with a little wave. “Don’t get up. I’ll be right back.”
“Is that Thomas Martinez?” I heard Jolene squawk as I made my way inside.
All of the doors and windows on the bottom level were open to catch the breeze coming off the river. I moved through those rooms to a space that I’ve always found calming in my home.
Damn it.
I thought that I was entirely over this. I thought I was entirely done with letting Jolene wind up my feelings like this. And this was just the pre-wedding brunch. How was I going to make it through this?
7
Tomás
Was Jolene Kirkland this narcissistic and annoying the first time I met her? If so, I didn’t remember it. She showed up two hours late to the pre-wedding brunch, and from the moment she sat down, she was loud and dismissive of everyone at the table.
“Thomas!” she said between deep swallows of the mimosa Jared had made for her. “I saw your article in The Architectural Digest. That little firm you started after quitting your job at Edgewater Associates has worked out for you, huh? Looks like all of that idealism you’ve been married to since college is beginning to pay off.”
I clenched my teeth at the purposeful mispronunciation of my name and said, “Yes, it is,” because that was the only thing I could say in response to that thinly-veiled insult. “I wasn’t aware that you knew anything about my firm or me for that matter.”
“Of course, I do! Shannon talked about you all the time. Whenever you would come up in conversation he’d always say, ‘that boy would go a lot further if he’d abandon all that that bright-eyed optimism’.”
Hm. My grandmother always said that we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I think she would make an exception in this case because Shannon MacFarland was an asshole in life and apparently in death as well. Even worse, he was a specific kind of asshole, who ran for office campaigning on diverse issues, but still played into respectability politics in his everyday life. He’d often chided me about my ideas on slowing the gentrification of blighted areas, called them idealistic pipe dreams. I couldn’t help feeling smug about turning those idealistic pipe dreams into some of my favorite projects as a developer and architect for my own firm.
“Well, congratulations, Thomas. There’s something to be said ‘bout sticking to your core beliefs and shaping your life and work around them. That’s no easy feat for a man in this day and age. I applaud you for that.”
“Thanks… I guess,” I murmured. I glanced at the doorway Darcy had disappeared through. She’d been gone for a while now.
“Don’t worry about her,” Jolene said as if he’d read my mind. “You know she’s always tended toward the dramatic.”
I frowned and looked across the table to gauge Jared’s reaction. He rolled his eyes, as if to agree that her statement wasn’t remotely true, but didn’t defend his mother either.
Not cool.
Pushing my chair back, I stood slowly and smoothed my hand down the front of my shirt. “I’ve never known Darcy to be the dramatic type, but even still, I feel it’s within my duties as Concierge to the Mother of the Groom to see about my charge,” I said, giving a dramatic bow before leaving the table.
“Concierge to the Mother of the Groom? What the hell is he talking about?” I heard Jolene ask as I stepped inside the cool, dim house.
Every window on the bottom floor was thrown open to catch the breeze off of the Ashley River. The air was cool and balmy, yet still a little sticky with humidity, in a way that felt pleasantly tropical and was distinctly Charleston. I stood in the hallway and enjoyed it for a moment. This was what came to mind when I thought of this city. That and this jungle house packed with house plants and Darcy with a spray bottle in hand, talking to them like they were people as she watered them.
Was that what Jolene meant when he said Darcy tended toward the dramatic?
Because when I looked back on it now, I wondered if all of that was just to mask how lonely she felt.
I moved through the dark, quiet house, passing her prized monstera deliciosa in the foyer, turned left at the stairway, and found Darcy curled into the fetal position on her chaise in her office.
“Darcy,” I whispered.
She sat up abruptly and pushed her hair out of her face. “Is everyone finished eating? Let me get in the kitchen. Minnie is going to need help getting everything cleaned up.”
“Relax, honey,” I said, applying gentle pressure to her shoulder until she rested her back against the chaise. I sat at the end of the chaise near her feet. “The guests are fine. Everyone is still eating and drinking. I just came to check on the hostess.”
“Oh…that’s right. Mother of the Groom Concierge,” she said, then laughed humorlessly. “I’m sorry if I made a scene. It’s been a long while since I’ve been in the same space with Dylan…and Jojo,” she explained. “I just needed a minute.”
“That’s totally understandable, and you didn’t make a scene,” I said, tracing my fingers down the length of her bare arm. Darcy sighed and grabbed my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. “Did I forget that Shannon was such a narcissistic asshole, or is that one of those things that become more obvious with distance and age? I can’t imagine a man of substance dealing with the likes of Jolene.”
She gave me a genuine laugh then. “To be honest, he was an asshole, but only with everyone else. He was more caring and loving with me and Jared. Well… he was until he wasn’t.”
I shook my head. “The way she says he talked about me…I can’t believe I ever found him interesting and inspiring. Now he just sounds like all the rich white men I network with — bloviating endlessly about topics that no one but them care about.”
“Unfortunately, that’s exactly who he was.” She sighed and stretched her long legs.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, noting the way weariness had dragged down the corners of her mouth. I knew I shouldn’t think this or say it out loud, but thank fuck that man was out of her life. I could see how he would have worn her down if he hadn’t died and she’d stayed in that marriage. She deserved so much better than that.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said with a nod. “I’ll be fine. I just need to come to terms with the fact that I have to share this monumental event in my son’s life with that vapid, arrogant woman.”
“Well…whenever you feel like you need a break or you’re worried that you might want to do murder, come find me.”
She chuckled softly. “You don’t have to do that, Tommy. Especially after our conversation earlier—”
“Shh…” I quieted, giving our interlaced hands a squeeze. “I agreed to do this before all of that. Seeing you in action at breakfast and this morning and realizing the lengths you go to make sure everyone is taken care of and how it goes completely unnoticed…” I shook my head. “I’m kind of ashamed of myself for being one of those people who treated you like that was something unremarkable. I’m so sorry, Darcy.”
“You’ve always been so sweet to me. Underneath all of the ridiculous over-the-top flirting, you have always been such a sweet, sweet boy,” she murmured, her light brown eyes searching my face. “But you’re gonna have to knock it off before people begin to think you have real feelings for me. I think my sister James already su
spects something.”
I laughed and looked down at our linked hands, our entwined fingers. “Should I be ashamed that people know the truth about how I feel for you, querida?”
She shook her head and blushed hard. “What am I gonna do with you, Tommy?” she asked, her voice a husky whisper.
I shrugged. “Make a list of the things you want and need me to do, and I’ll do my best to fulfill it in the seventy-two hours I’m in town.”
“Tommy… You have to stop,” she scolded.
“I’ll stop if you really want me to, Darcy. Like I said, I’m at your service this weekend. I will do any and everything you ask of me. Whatever you want. I can be discreet. No one has to know what happens between us.”
She parted her lips to speak but then closed them and gave me a contemplative look. Then, as if she came to some decision, she leaned in a bit closer and said, “What if I said I would give this some thought?”
Her voice had dropped into that low, sultry octave, saying those words that made my belly lurch excitedly. “I’d say—”
Both our phones started jangling alert tones. Irritated, I dug mine out of my pocket, and she did the same.
*thirty minutes to tux fitting. Traffic is moderate to heavy. If you leave now, you will arrive at three thirty-one.*
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath as I stood up. “I don’t want to leave this conversation unfinished again because something tells me the offer will be off the table if I do.”
Darcy looked up at me and smiled. “Probably,” she answered honestly. “What else is on your schedule?”
I thumbed open the schedule I’d set:
3:30 p.m. tux fitting
check car and hotel reservations for Bran & Jay’s honeymoon
make sure J has picked and purchased his pre-wedding gift for B.
If She Says Yes Page 7
