“That’s not exactly normal,” I say.
Emmie snorts. “Pot, meet kettle.”
Aunt Gracie and Uncle Jesse show up before I can say anything else. They’re super cute together, all playful and giggling. I’m happy for them, and I know my Uncle Reed would be, too. No one expects you to live like a nun when you become a young widow, but that’s exactly what my aunt did.
Jesse says, “Sorry we’re a bit late, we got caught up with something.”
Eeew.
“Jed, remember when we used to get so caught up it made us late for things?” my mama teases.
Daddy laughs. “I was thinking we might get caught up after dinner. What do you say to that?”
Mama bats her eyes. “Maybe if you play your cards right.”
Eeew again.
My parents have always been openly flirtatious with each other, but this is going beyond the bounds of tastefulness. Davis arrives at that moment, stopping them from getting even more nauseating.
“Hey all,” my youngest brother greets. “You ready to eat like Irishmen?”
“Son, I’m one hundred percent Irish, so you know I am,” our daddy says.
Tonight is the beginning of corn beef and cabbage season down at the club. They’ll serve it through St. Patrick’s Day. I’m a huge fan of the colcannon, which is mashed potatoes and cabbage all mixed together. It’s served with a little pitcher of clarified butter that you pour into the center, after making a well with the back of your spoon. So, so good and not one bit good for you.
“How’ve you been, Davis?” I ask. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks.” He missed last week’s dinner due to an armoire he was in a hurry to finish. That’s what he said, anyway. I suspect he doesn’t harbor the need to see us every week like clockwork.
“Good,” he answers. “How are you?”
“I got some new smokey quartz down at the shop. I kind of love it.”
My brother smiles. “That sounds nice. What are you going to make with it?”
“I was thinking maybe some broaches or something.”
Beau and Lexi are the last ones to arrive and—hold on to your girdle—they’re not alone. They have the rock star with them. Even though Huck is dressed in a completely unexpected manner—he’s wearing nice pants and sweater like he’s just come from a Rotary Club meeting—I know it’s him. His typical fans probably wouldn’t recognize him though, which I’m guessing is why he’s doing it.
Emmie elbows me in the ribs in conspiratorial excitement while Mama says, “Hey, Beau, Lexi, who’s your friend?”
Beau says, “This here is Huck. He’s staying at Lexi’s B&B for a couple of months. We thought we’d bring him along and welcome him to town properly.”
The older generation doesn’t seem to have any idea who he is. Daddy says, “Welcome to Creek Water, son. You planning on moving here?”
As if that would ever happen.
“Just vacationing,” Huck says with a smile. “My daughter is meeting me later in the week.”
“How old’s your girl?” Aunt Gracie wants to know.
“Maggie’s ten,” the rock star answers.
Davis leans over to me and whispers, “What in the heck is Huck Wiley doing staying in Creek Water?” Davis loves Huck’s music nearly as much as I do, so it’s no surprise he recognized him, especially when he was introduced with his real first name.
I whisper back, “He came in to the shop, asking about beading lessons for his daughter. He told me that he and Maggie are trying to stay out of the limelight for a while so they can spend time together while Huck’s not on tour.”
Davis nods. “Cool.”
Once we’ve ordered, the evening continues much like it does during every other family dinner. We talk about work, club activities, and the latest gossip in town. Mama and Aunt Gracie tell us all how the planning for Emmie and Zach’s reception is coming along.
Lexi smiles at the banter. She and Beau have only been dating for a couple of months so no one’s expecting a declaration from them anytime soon, but you can tell how much she loves him and the boisterous, over-the-top Frothingham clan. Being that she’s an only child, we are more family than she’s used to.
Zach says, “My mom wants to do the rehearsal dinner at Filene’s, if that sounds good to everyone.” There are nods and sounds of approval, so that’s all settled.
“What about flowers?” Aunt Gracie asks. “We’re gonna need to know what you want so we can get those ordered.”
Emmie answers, “I was thinking little bundles of freesia and cornflowers for the tables, and I’ll carry calla lilies in my bouquet.”
My mama throws her hand across her heart and I swear her eyes get all teary. “This is so much fun!” Then she looks at me and says, “Gracie and I are going to be old hats at this by the time you to get hitched, honey.”
I know my face turns beet red. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to have something super small if I ever get married, Mama. Maybe I’ll even elope.”
“Elope?” Daddy yells. “Over my dead body will my little girl elope. No, ma’am, you’re going to have a big wedding and we’re going to invite everyone in town.” Then he looks at Beau and Davis. “Same goes for you boys. My kids are going to the altar in style.”
Mama stares at me and demands, “If you get married? What’s that supposed to mean?”
This is not a conversation I wish to be having in front of Huck Wiley, but I can’t help that. “I’m almost thirty-four, Mama. Most gals around here are long gone by the time they’re my age. I’m just saying that there are no guarantees, is all.”
“What about Aiden Quinn?” Mama demands. “You full-on pooped on that parade. You know how much he loved you. He was getting ready to ask you to marry him when you broke it off.”
“How do you know that?” I demand, so surprised at her announcement that I temporarily lose my senses and keep this conversation going.
“He asked your daddy’s permission is how I know.”
Stunned, I look down at the napkin I’m mutilating in my lap as I quickly push down my feelings. I clear my throat and reply, “I did not know that.”
“Obviously.” Mama looks belatedly chagrined that she said anything.
I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Was Aidan really going to ask me to marry him? Would that have made any difference? If I’d said yes and made our marriage contingent on him moving back to Creek Water, would he have done it? My head buzzes like a hive full of angry bees.
I stand up quickly hoping a change of venue might help clear it. “If y’all will excuse me for a minute,” I say. Then I dash out of the dining room before I can burst into tears in front of my whole family and the rock star.
Emmie finds me in front of the ladies’ restroom. “Are you okay?” she asks as she puts an arm around my shoulder to offer comfort.
“No. What does Mama think she’s doing, telling me this now?”
“It was a pretty low blow,” my cousin admits. “I think she’s just getting herself all worked up because of Zach’s and my wedding. I’m sorry if it’s causing you trouble.”
“Emmeline Frothingham,” I tell her, “you have every right to enjoy your wedding planning. You deserve happiness. I’m so happy for you I could cry.” Then horror of horrors, the floodgates open and I burst into ugly tears, the kind pre-pubescent girls are known for.
Emmie holds onto me while I drain the dam. Then she asks, “You want to go home? I can make your apologies.”
I think about it for a moment before answering, “No. I’m not going to give Mama the satisfaction of chasing me away like that. I’m going right back out there and I’m going to eat my dinner like her little declaration doesn’t mean a thing.”
Chapter 11
“So, Huck, what do you do?” my daddy asks as I get back to the table.
The rock star answers, “I’m in the music business.” He looks up at me like he’s concerned over my dramatic departure. Which is either sweet or alarming depe
nding on how you look at it.
“Music?” Aunt Grace declares. “I bet that’s exciting. What do you play, the fiddle, the clarinet?” The clarinet? What grown man plays the clarinet these days?
“The guitar, mostly,” Huck answers.
My daddy interjects, “Music is a hard field. So much rejection.” Then, hand to god, he adds, “Don’t give up, son. You just keep plucking away at it and I’m sure you’ll make it big someday.”
Zach drops his fork and looks around the table like he’s waiting for somebody to set my daddy straight. When no one does, he seems to understand we’re not outing Huck to those who don’t already know. He decides to get in on the fun. “Yeah, Huck, I’m sure you’ll eventually make it if you don’t give up.”
The rock star smiles conspiratorially. “I hope so. I mean, here I am nearly thirty-five.” Then he jokes with me, “We’re just a couple of old maids, huh, Amelia?” His tone is lighthearted, but the look on his face is anything but. Damn, is that man pitying me?
Mama’s eyes pop open like she’s just had an idea. “You sure you’re not thinking of moving to these parts?” she asks Huck.
He shakes his head. “Not much chance of making it big in music here.”
Mama temporarily looks disappointed, but you can tell she has bigger dreams for me than marrying a struggling musician. If she knew the truth, neither Huck nor I would be safe. And as much as I have fantasized about something happening between us, there’s no way it can. His life is way too big for the likes of me. He tours the world for his work and is always surrounded by masses of people. I couldn’t even leave Creek Water to live in St. Louis with Aiden.
The rest of dinner is filled with lots of food and chatter. Mama tries to get my attention a couple of times, but I act like I don’t hear her. I’m not going to let her off the hook that easily. She needs to learn there are boundaries in life and I’m done letting her cross mine.
After our dishes are cleared, I stand up and announce, “I’m gonna get going.”
My daddy asks, “Before the whiskey cake?”
“I’m stuffed, Daddy. Plus, as you know, I didn’t sleep well last night, and I need to play catch up.”
Huck abruptly stands up, too. He asks, “Would you mind giving me a lift back to Lexi’s? I’m kind of beat.”
“I can take you if you’re ready,” Lexi offers. But Beau puts his hand on her arm to stop her from saying more.
“That’s okay. If Amelia doesn’t mind, I’ll catch a ride with her.”
All eyes turn to me. “Sure,” I somehow manage to say.
Lexi asks me, “You know where the spare key is?” Then she explains to the group, “I need to have some extras made so I can give Huck his own.”
I nod my head. She keeps it in the fountain. Coming from New York, Lexi wasn’t about to put her key under the front mat like everybody else does. I don’t particularly relish the idea of fishing it out of freezing cold water, but I’m guessing burglars wouldn’t either, so there you go. Solid planning.
Mama says, “Good night, honey. Sleep well.” I choose to ignore her. That woman has made a tactical error in dealing with me.
“Beau and I should be back in about an hour, Huck. Make yourself at home,” Lexi says.
He waves. “Will do.” Then he looks around the table and adds, “Good night, all. Thanks for letting me crash your family dinner.”
“You’ll have to join us again when Maggie arrives,” Beau offers.
I say, “See y’all next week.” Then I walk out of the dining room with the rock star at my heels. As much as I’m totally taken with the man—I mean, who wouldn’t be—I’m not actually looking forward to being alone with him after what went down at the dinner table. Talk about embarrassing.
It was miles worse than the pinching and verbal diarrhea. Okay, maybe not worse, but just as bad.
We walk the entire way to the car with neither one of us saying anything. When I click my keychain to unlock the doors, the headlights flash. Huck lets himself into the passenger side. Once I’m next to him, he offers, “Thanks for giving me a lift.”
Ripples of pleasure pour through me. “You’re welcome.” I put my key into the ignition and the sound of Huck’s voice blasts out of the speakers. Crap. I turn it off as fast as I can.
“Which song is your favorite?” he asks, amused.
“‘Tender Love’,” I answer honestly, still not believing he’s actually sitting next to me. In my car!
He nods his head and starts to quietly croon:
Love is fleeting like the rain,
Full of hope, full of pain.
Tender caresses light as air,
Forever gone, so unfair.
Hearing Huck Wiley sing on the radio or a CD is always a phenomenal experience, but hearing him sing in person? It’s downright electrifying.
I look in the rearview mirror and catch a glimpse of myself … Oh, dear heavens, I didn’t realize how puffy and red my eyes were after my spontaneous cry-fest at the club. I look like my best friend just died. I want to grab my compact out of my purse and try to rectify the situation, but I can’t do that in front of the rock star without drawing attention to it. Hopefully, he won’t notice so much in the dark.
When he’s done singing, I ask, “Who’s the song for?” I try to keep my voice steadier than I feel.
After a long moment he finally answers, “It’s for my mom. She died last year.”
“I’m sorry. That must be hard.”
“It is, but maybe in a different way than you’re thinking.”
“How so?” I hope I’m not being too nosey, but he left the barn door open.
“My parents adopted me when they were in their late forties. Their daughter, my sister, was almost out of high school. I don’t think they quite knew what to do with me.”
“Parenthood was probably quite an adjustment at that time in their lives,” I offer.
“I’m sure it was. Don’t get me wrong, I always knew they loved me, but I felt like I was more of a pet to them than their child.”
I wonder how, but I don’t want to seem pushy. He adds, “My folks were well off and they relied on nannies to do a lot of the parenting. I went through several, which sort of messed with my concept of love.”
“Being a parent must be like swimming in the ocean.” I explain my analogy, “It takes a lot of practice, but there are no guarantees you’re going to successfully navigate all the riptides and waves that come your way. Just look at my folks. They try so hard to make sure everything goes well for us kids that they wind up getting way too involved in our lives.”
“That was quite a bomb your mom dropped on you at dinner. Are you okay?”
“I guess.” After a beat, I add, “While she should have never said that, I know she wasn’t trying to hurt me. It’s just that her love sometimes feels like a sledgehammer landing.” I turn to look at him. “Which, of course, is why I’m gonna make her pay.”
The expression on Huck’s face is so unguarded that he suddenly looks like a lost little boy. “Sometimes I worry that I’m doing the same thing to Maggie that my parents did to me.”
“In what way?” I ask.
“By leaving her for weeks at a time while I’m on tour. Leaving her with other people to raise her.”
“You said she stays with family. It’s not like you’re dumping her on strangers.”
“No, I’m not, but it’s not me. I know too well there’s no substitute for a parent.” The lyrics to “Tender Love” are so raw and full of pain, the guy obviously has some unresolved feelings about his mom.
“How many months out of the year are you on the road?” I ask.
“It depends on whether I have a new album out. If I’ve just released one, I can be gone for six months, but I break it up into legs so it’s not all at once. When Maggie’s not in school, my sister brings her on tour for a couple of weeks. That way she can see new parts of the world as well as spend time with me.”
“She must lov
e that.”
Huck reaches over and puts his hand on my arm. There’s nothing romantic about it; it’s more of an attention getter. Then he asks, “Would you have loved that kind of childhood?”
Dread rushes through me like a fast-acting poison. “Probably not,” I answer him honestly. I belatedly realize I shouldn’t have been so blunt, but Huck Wiley brings out my candor, which kind of worries me. I try to soften the blow by adding, “But just because it wouldn’t have suited me, doesn’t mean that your daughter doesn’t feel differently.”
He shakes his head so forlornly that I want to pull him into my arms to comfort him. “I’m afraid that Maggie feels much the same way you do,” he says.
Chapter 12
I reluctantly slip my arm away from Huck’s hand and put the car into gear. If Maggie does suffer from anxiety, having her dad gone so much must wreak havoc on her ability to find balance. I want to ask about her mother, but Huck was so adamant in the Rolling Stone article about the topic not being open for discussion that I don’t dare.
I reach out and turn the music back on and listen to rest of the song that Huck wrote for his mom. It’s heartbreaking.
Push the swing, tug the heart,
When you go away, life falls apart.
I wanted to know how much I meant,
Before you left, to heaven went.
“What about your dad?” I ask.
“He died when I was in high school.”
The thought of losing one parent, let alone both of them, is hard for me to grasp. My chest starts to get heavy like a grizzly bear is pressing down on it. I should drop him off and go home so I can count in private. Instead, I ask, “Are you really tired?”
“Nah, I was just looking for an excuse to spend a little time with you.”
My body trembles with anticipation. I’m not sure if he means that in a flirtatious way or not, but that’s how I want to hear it. “Can I show you something?”
“Sure,” he says. So instead of taking the turn that would lead us to Lexi’s, I keep going straight until I pass the high school. I pull into the parking lot and find a spot close to the football field. Huck looks at me questioningly, but he doesn’t ask what we’re doing here.
The Plan: A Sweet and Sexy Rock Star Romantic Comedy (The Creek Water Series Book 3) Page 5
