A Summer Wedding at Cross Creek Inn

by Cheryl Holt

  “This will end in disaster,” Rachel said. “Mark my words.”

  “They’re marked, but could you try to be a bit more positive? You’re hosting the bridal lunch today, and you can’t be so negative. Everyone will feel your bad vibes, and I want the party to be perfect for her.”

  “If it’s ruined, it won’t be because of me. I merely hope Eric can behave for a few hours, so we don’t have to suffer another catastrophe. Can he control himself long enough to stagger to the altar tomorrow?”

  “I’m crossing my fingers.”

  Suddenly, a keycard was stuck in the lock, and they scowled, not able to imagine who it might be. When they discovered who was slinking in, they were stunned.

  “Dad?” Rachel said.

  His shirt was buttoned wrong, his hair askew, a shoe lace untied. But he was grinning, looking delighted with himself.

  “We thought you were still in bed,” Amy said.

  “No . . . ah . . . I’m just getting in.”

  “Getting in from where? Were you out all night?”

  His cheeks heated to such a hot shade of red that Amy was surprised he didn’t ignite. He fumbled for an explanation, but gave up and slithered to his room. He shut the door without glancing back.

  She and Rachel were frozen in a shocked silence, then Rachel whispered, “Did my dad just return from a one-night stand? Please tell me that’s not what I just witnessed.”

  Amy was startled and even a tad impressed. Their dad was the most selfless, dedicated man who’d ever lived, and he never indulged any whim.

  “Let’s finish our breakfast,” Amy said, “and pretend we didn’t see him.”

  “Who would he have been with?”

  “I won’t try to guess.”

  She skidded into the doorway that led onto the rear patio of the Inn.

  Eric was on the other side, over by the rail and waiting for her. He was dressed in jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt, a jacket over the top. Sunglasses shielded his magnificent blue eyes. He looked handsome and yummy, and his smile was full of guilt and remorse.

  A table had been set for two: white linen, crystal glassware, candles, flowers in the center. He held out a chair, gesturing for her to join him, and her prior aggravation floated away.

  Why had she fretted and stewed so obsessively? It had been such a waste of energy. Here he was! Obviously filled with regret. Everything would be fine.

  She hurried over and fell into his arms. He caught her and lifted her off the floor, twirling her in a circle as he kissed her right out in the open, which she viewed as a sign of contrition on his part.

  “I was a total asshole,” he said as he placed her on her feet. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course I forgive you.”

  “I can’t figure out why I acted that way. Sometimes, I can be such a prick.”

  “I know—but I like you anyway.”

  He helped her into her seat, then took the chair across. He didn’t remove his sunglasses, so his hangover had to be really bad. She was determined to tamp down any pity. If he was miserable, it was his own fault.

  “Thank you for the roses,” she said. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Here’s something else to show you how wretched I am.” He pulled a small box from his coat. It was wrapped in silver paper, with a pretty bow on top, and he extended it to her. “I planned to give this to you at the rehearsal dinner, but I decided I probably needed some extra ammunition this morning.”

  She snorted at that and ripped off the paper. Inside, there was a darling gold bracelet, with their initials, E and J, woven into a lovely setting, the two letters sparkling with stones that had to be diamonds.

  “Wow,” she murmured. Fleetingly, she wondered when she’d become the kind of woman who would wear an expensive diamond bracelet. The moment seemed surreal, as if it was happening to some wealthier, more glamorous female.

  He removed the bracelet from the box and attached it to her wrist, and she waved her arm back and forth, letting him see how gorgeous it was. He clasped her hand and kissed the center of her palm.

  “All better now?” he asked.

  There was an alarm bell clanging in her head, warning her not to be bought off with a fancy trinket, but it was a very soft bell. “Definitely all better.”

  “Then can we eat? I’m so hungover; I’m about to pass out.”

  “I don’t feel sorry for you.”

  “You shouldn’t, and as punishment for my sins, I will kick myself all day so I remember how fortunate I am that you’re still willing to marry me.”

  “And I will spend the day agreeing with you.”

  They sighed with pleasure—crisis averted!—and the waiter approached, their ice-cold mimosas poured and served with a flare. Eric gulped his down in a quick swallow and requested an immediate refill.

  “I’m starving, so we’re not waiting for him.”

  Dennis glared at Sharon, as if Eric’s absence from their family breakfast was her fault, but his glower rolled off like water off a duck’s back. Since Eric had arrived at the Inn, she’d barely spoken to him, and he was an adult. If he chose to forget that he had an extremely rare meal scheduled with both his parents, it was his problem. Not hers.

  She was simply curious as to why she had attended the meal. When Dennis had suggested it, she’d nearly laughed in his face, but he always wound up coercing her so she’d accommodate him. It was easier to oblige him than argue. He was more adamant than she was, so he won any battle.

  Alex had tagged along, insisting he had to protect her in case Dennis and Eric ganged up on her, and he said, “Are you sure Eric is even in the hotel?”

  “Where else would he be?” Dennis asked.

  “He left last night with Josh, to have drinks down in the village. Maybe they ended up flying to Cabo.”

  Eric and Josh occasionally behaved that way. They’d grown up rich and spoiled, and they fed off each other, exhibiting a lack of sense, as well as a complete disregard for others who might be harmed by their antics.

  “It’s his wedding,” Sharon huffed, “and all of his friends are here for it. Why would he sneak off to party in the village?”

  Alex shrugged. “You know what he’s like.”

  “I certainly do,” Sharon said. “Was Jennifer angry?”

  Alex flashed a look that seemed to say, Duh! Yes!

  They were in Dennis’s suite, and luckily, Crystal wasn’t present. Sharon was debating why. Had Dennis refused to include her? Or had she refused to join them on her own? Sharon was merely grateful that the wretched woman had stayed away.

  Dennis had had food delivered. They were seated at a table by the window, so they could stare out at the mountain views, and a buffet was arranged behind them. Two waiters hovered, ready to assist with whatever they required.

  “How angry was Jennifer?” Dennis asked. “Might I hope she’s packing her bags this morning?”

  “What does that mean?” Alex asked.

  “I wish she’d become so incensed that she’d call it off and head home.”

  “Dad . . .” Alex scolded.

  “It can’t be a surprise to you to hear that I’m vehemently opposed to this marriage. I warned Eric not to go through with it.”

  “Dad!” Alex said more sternly. “Tell me you didn’t!”

  “Don’t get me wrong. Jennifer is a very nice girl from a very ordinary family. She’s too far beneath him. It will never work out.”

  “I see nothing’s changed around here,” Alex said. “You’re still such a prick.”

  Dennis never listened to criticism. In his world, he was considered a god, and he didn’t think anyone’s opinion mattered but his own.

  “They’ll be together for a few years,” Dennis said, “then he’ll grow bored and divorce her. Or she’ll grow aggravated and divorce him.
It will simply wind up costing us tons of bad media and a fortune in legal fees. We could avoid the entire debacle if she fled right now.”

  “If it collapses, how can it cost you any money?” Alex asked. “Didn’t you demand she sign a pre-nup?”

  “Of course, and it’s air-tight too. She’ll keep her wedding ring and a hundred grand in cash, and that’s it.”

  Alex gaped at his father as if he were an alien that had landed from Jupiter, but Sharon was studying him, trying to figure out how she’d once loved him so dearly. When he was such a blatant narcissist, how had she developed such intense feelings? And more importantly, why had she allowed him to devastate her for such a lengthy period after they’d split? Why hadn’t she shrugged and said, good riddance?

  “I can’t believe you were that generous with the terms.” Alex’s tone was very sarcastic. “Why permit her to keep anything at all?”

  “Hey, I’m not an animal,” Dennis claimed with no sense of irony. “I wouldn’t leave her destitute.”

  “That’s big of you.”

  Dennis pointed his fork at Sharon and said, “Your mother agrees with me about Jennifer. Ask her. She’ll explain how ridiculous this marriage is.”

  Sharon had never discussed her reservations with Dennis, and she’d been so lost in her rumination that she’d scarcely been paying attention. With his gesturing to her, she felt as if she’d been poked with a pin.

  “Don’t drag me into this mess,” she said. “I’ve never been able to tell Eric what to do. If he’s set on marrying Jennifer, I couldn’t possibly stop him.”

  Alex scowled as if she’d let him down. “So Jennifer should back out?”

  “It’s a little too late for either of them to walk away,” she said.

  “I like Jennifer a lot,” Alex fervently said, “and she’s much too good for Eric. You have to realize that, Mom. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, I realize it.” What else could she say? “I can’t bear to distress you, but I have no idea why Eric decided to propose to her. It shocked your father and me very much. He and Jennifer have nothing in common, and I can’t picture it ending in a sane way.”

  Dennis smirked. “I told you she agreed with me. She’s a smart woman, your mother.”

  At the compliment, Sharon could have fallen off her chair.

  “They’re not sufficiently acquainted,” she said to her son, “for her to truly know or understand Eric. Can you imagine how he might hurt her before he’s finished?”

  There were many awful answers to that question. He’d have constant affairs. He’d get drunk and run off with Josh or one of his other friends and not return for weeks. He wouldn’t ever inform her of where he was or what he was doing.

  He’d shower her with gifts though, so she’d hang on much longer than she should, and she’d stay even though she was being betrayed over and over. Eventually, everyone would be laughing at her behind her back. It’s how Sharon’s life had unfolded with Dennis, but none of them mentioned it, and she suspected Dennis probably didn’t recognize that it was exactly how he’d behaved.

  Alex tossed down his napkin and jumped to his feet. “I thought I could sit through this meal, but I can’t. If you’ll excuse me?”

  “Don’t go, Alex.” Sharon wasn’t anxious to be left alone with Dennis. She wasn’t keen to chat with him and had expected to use Alex as a buffer. “We don’t have to talk about Eric or the wedding. How about if you tell us about your job? It’s always fascinating for me to hear more of the details.”

  He scoffed at that. “How about you, Dad? Are you dying to hear more about my job where I help the poor and the dispossessed?”

  “Not really,” Dennis said, “unless you just can’t hold it in.”

  Dennis began wolfing down food, as if Alex’s presence was irrelevant. Alex stomped out without another word.

  After the door shut behind him, Dennis peered over at her and said, “What’s gotten into him? I haven’t seen him in over a year. If he simply planned to grouch and complain, why travel all this way?”

  “It was a hard trip, and he’s exhausted.”

  She’d been the peacemaker in the family, but she didn’t have to play that part anymore, and her musings drifted off to the passionate evening she’d spent with Greg. The amorous interlude had been remarkable, and she was stunned by how quickly she’d tumbled into the affair.

  She was also stunned by how perfect it felt to be immersed in it. She smiled, wishing she could blurt out, Would you like to guess what I did last night?

  “Why are you smiling?” Dennis asked. “That kid always was a crybaby, and since he became an adult, he’s turned into a whiny wimp. I hope you don’t think it was appropriate for him to speak to me like that.”

  “No, I wasn’t thinking about Alex. My mind’s on a different topic entirely.”

  She wondered what would happen after she and Greg headed home. It seemed like more was occurring than a simple fling, and she’d like to suggest they visit each other occasionally in the future. Would he like that?

  “How’s Crystal?” she inquired, eager to discover if she could utter the dreaded name without collapsing.

  “Crystal is . . . the same.” He waved a bored hand as if that explained his relationship with her.

  “I noticed Lindsey is in some trouble. Out on the Internet, with that college admission scandal?”

  “She’s not in trouble,” he testily replied. “She said something stupid, but she’s a kid. It will fade away. Her publicist is working on it.”

  “I hate to have anyone attacked like that. There are so many mean people out on the web.” Sharon ventured to pry where she shouldn’t. “Are you sure she’s okay? I’ve observed her around the Inn, and she might have been drinking, but she’s not old enough, is she? I’m worried she might be developing a problem with drugs or alcohol—like her father. Didn’t he die of an overdose?”

  He looked completely uninterested in the subject, and he poured himself a cup of coffee and glared at her over the rim. “She’s not my daughter, and I’m not responsible for her. If she’s drinking, her mother will handle it.”

  It was such a sad statement. Crystal had moved in with Dennis when Lindsey was four. What kind of childhood must she have had with Crystal and Dennis for parents? Sharon felt sorry for her.

  “When you first arrived,” she said, “I watched you climb out of your limo, and you had a girl with you. Are you seeing a new actress?”

  He peeked at the waiters who were still hovering, then casually responded, “You’re poking your nose into issues you should leave alone.”

  “I realize that, but if you divorce Crystal for a prettier, younger wife, it would please me to infinity. I like to picture that karma crashing into her.”

  He laughed. “If I ever toss her over, I’ll tell her you said so.”

  She threw down her napkin and stood. “I’ve had enough of our family breakfast for one lifetime. Enjoy the rest of your meal, but I have the bride’s lunch in a few hours, so I have things to do before it starts.” Actually, she didn’t have anything to do all morning, but it was a good excuse for her sudden departure.

  “Waste of good food,” he said, as if he didn’t care if she left.

  “Don’t forget that you have to give a toast at the rehearsal dinner. I recognize that it goes against your nature, but I’d appreciate it if you could offer some nice comments about Jennifer. Try not to be an asshole for once. And for God’s sake, clean yourself up or don’t show up. You look like a homeless person.”

  She walked to the door, and he called, “When have I ever been an asshole?”

  She stopped and glanced around, and it appeared to be a sincere question.

  “When have you been an asshole?” she hurled back at him. “How about always?”

  She shook her head with disgust and marched out.

  “G
et out of here.”

  “I’m going, I’m going.”

  Crystal preened in front of Eric’s bedroom mirror, straightening her clothes and checking her makeup. He was suffering from a killer hangover, and he was stretched out on the bed, sunglasses shielding his eyes.

  She was enormously pleased with herself, which simply proved that she had really insane tendencies. Her marriage to Dennis provided her the status of being wife to a mega-player as well as maximum fiscal security, and whenever she hooked up with Eric, she risked it all.

  He wasn’t worth it, but Dennis could be such a prick sometimes, and he’d grown to be fat and repulsive. She was sick of him. Eric was the kind of young, handsome guy she should have wed. Why hadn’t she realized it years earlier?

  She was using Sharon as an excuse for her current bad behavior. Dennis had arranged a family breakfast with Sharon, and he hadn’t wanted Crystal to join them. It had left her so angry that she’d been on the verge of ordering a car and flying back to California. She should have told Dennis to screw himself, then headed home, but she’d screwed his son instead, and it had supplied an enormous amount of satisfaction too.

  She’d bumped into Eric in the hall by his suite, and she’d flashed a seductive look. That was all the invitation he’d required. He’d glanced both directions to be certain they were alone, then he’d dragged her inside.

  They’d never been able to resist each other, and they’d done it fast and furious up against the door. Then they’d staggered to his bedroom and had enjoyed a second, more leisurely attempt while horizontal on his mattress.

  “What’s your plan for the rest of the afternoon?” she asked. “You’re not in any condition to socialize.”

  “I’ll nap until I have to dress for the rehearsal dinner.”

  “Should I schedule a wake-up call for you? You shouldn’t oversleep and miss it. Your fiancée would be so pissed; you might find yourself a bachelor again.”

  “I like being a bachelor.”

  “I know, but will you like being a husband?”

  “Hey, I’ll be a great husband.”

  “Keep hope alive, dear Eric. Why are you marrying Jennifer? I forgot the reason.”