“Good night, Jo.”
They even spoke in unison. She smiled, but her heart felt oddly heavy and … empty … as she walked back to the cottage. Maybe she was just missing Mom. And Dad. Or maybe she was just sad that her sister was getting married, and that nothing would ever really be the same after that day.
Who was she kidding? Things had already changed between them. Maybe the ache fanning out in her chest was a stubborn remnant of the pain she’d felt for Ben when they first broke up. Or perhaps her sadness stemmed from the great loss Mateo had experienced. It was hard enough to have lost her own mother at twenty-six. She couldn’t begin to fathom what it would have been like to have lost Mom as a preteen. And the burden Luke now bore because of the boy? How had that even come to be?
Still, what she was feeling seemed more … personal. Maybe she was just good old-fashioned lonely. And why not, when it seemed everyone who’d once filled her days was no longer in her life.
CHAPTER 11
JO PACED THE LENGTH OF the kitchen for the third time and peered out the window that looked over the river. It was still too early to tell, but the sky looked awfully dark to the east. Please, Lord … Please don’t let it rain!
They did have a contingency plan to have the wedding at Quinn’s church, but in Jo’s eyes, that was not at all satisfactory. They’d worked so hard to make everything perfect up at the clearing, and Phee wanted an outdoor wedding. Every evening this week the sisters had worked together to finish yards of flouncy rag garland crafted from paper hearts and little scraps of linen they’d torn from some old curtains Mom had sewn for the bedroom they shared as little girls. Phee had come up with the idea for the garland after she found the old curtains in a box Dad had brought for them to sort through.
Jo had to admit it was the perfect touch. Woven amongst the branches in the clearing along with strings of twinkle lights, the garland fluttered in the breeze like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Now, to think all the work they’d done to get things ready might go to waste because of a little rain made her queasy.
Of course, they had a large tent set up in the clearing under the canopy of the woods, but too much rain would make it next to impossible to even get up to the clearing. Not to mention, where would sixty-some guests—as many as fifteen or twenty vehicles—park if the lane was muddy?
“What are you doing up so early?”
Jo whirled at the deep voice, and instantly a smile came. “Good morning, Dad! Did you sleep okay? The paint fumes didn’t make you sick?” He’d stayed in the cabin that was still in the process of being “fixer-uppered,” as Quinn called it. The other cabin wasn’t anywhere close to finished, but it was farther along and was the one they were using as a dressing room for the wedding—assuming it didn’t rain.
“I slept fine. I still can’t get over my daughters, the land barons. You girls did a great thing when you bought this property.”
“I really love it. And I’m so glad Quinn and Phee are going to build here.”
“Maybe I’ll do the same someday. If you girls would let me.”
Joy bubbled up inside her. “Oh, Dad! That’d be the best.”
“Well now, don’t hold your breath. Someday could be twenty years from now.”
She slumped her shoulders. “Way to get a girl’s hopes up and then drop her like a rock.”
He laughed. “You three are doing just fine without me.”
“Maybe, but we’d all be a lot happier if you weren’t so far away.”
He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“Are you ready for coffee?”
“Always. But I can make it. Just show me where everything is.”
“Oh, no … I set it up last night. Should start brewing any minute.”
“I think my coffeemaker has that auto setting too. I just haven’t taken the time to figure out how to make it work yet. You’ll have to show me.”
How she’d missed him! Dad had flown in from Florida on Thursday, and seeing Phee on his arm as they rehearsed under the tent last night had brought tears to her eyes.
If the wedding went anything like rehearsal, it would be a roaring success, and they’d had so much fun afterward. It was only the small wedding party, Dad, Quinn, Phee’s friends who were doing the music for the ceremony, the pastor and his wife, and Quinn’s brother and his wife and their darling little girl. Haley wasn’t quite old enough to handle flower girl duties, but she’d kept them all entertained, swaying and prancing to the music and sharing cookies with anyone who would eat “just one mo’.” She did worry a little about Quinn’s brother. Phee had intimated that Markus might have a problem with alcohol, and Jo suspected he’d been drinking last night even though no liquor had been served at the rehearsal. She shook the thought away. She had plenty to worry about without adding Quinn’s brother to the list.
“Hey, you. That frown is ruining your pretty face. What are you worrying about now?”
Jo shook away the worrisome thoughts and forced a smile. “Oh, just … everything.”
Dad laughed, hovering by the coffeemaker, empty cup in hand. “So, what do you need me to do? I’m at your service.”
“I need you to pray it doesn’t rain.”
He put an arm around her shoulder. “If it rains, everything will still be fine. Not a thing you can do about it, so no sense worrying.”
“Easier said than done, Padre.”
“I get that.” He gave her a squeeze, then let out a little cheer when the coffeemaker sputtered to life. He patted the machine. “Here … This’ll help.”
She laughed and went for her own mug.
“I’m surprised Phee isn’t up yet.”
“I’m up!” Phylicia sashayed into the kitchen, hair in a towel. Melvin traipsed behind her, batting at the loose belt of her robe. “You didn’t think I’d sleep in on my wedding day, did you?”
Dad greeted Phee with a hug, then stooped to scratch behind Melvin’s ears.
Jo gave an inward sigh. Everything was like it had been before Dad moved to Florida to be with that woman—Karleen. It was a rash thing he had done, starting a relationship with one of Mom’s hospice nurses so soon after Mom’s death. He’d apologized to them all and assured them it was over between him and Karleen—that his actions had been a result of grief and loneliness.
But Phee had told Jo and Britt about Karleen coming into the flower shop where Phee worked to order flowers for the family of a hospice patient. It worried Jo to learn that the woman was still here in Cape Girardeau. She couldn’t let herself think about what might happen if Dad ran into her while he was here. Still, he was more like his old self again, and it seemed like he was truly happy with his life in Florida. She tossed up a little prayer of thanks. For Phee’s sake especially.
“Are you nervous, sis?”
“Not one tiny bit.” Phee beamed, then tilted her head, eyeing Jo. “Are you?”
“If it doesn’t rain, I’ll be fine.”
“And you’ll be fine if it does rain. Not a thing we can do about it, so no use worrying.”
Dad and Jo exchanged a look and burst out laughing.
“What?” Phee looked from one to the other, her brow furrowed. “What did I say?”
“Just word-for-word what Dad said five minutes ago when I mentioned rain.”
Phee looked up at Dad, her face brimming with love for him. “I am my father’s daughter.”
The look he gave her in return said, that settles it.
And in that moment, Jo decided that even if it did rain, she wasn’t going to waste another minute worrying about it. The first Chandler sister was getting married today and wherever it happened, and under whatever skies God ordained, that was just fine with her.
“Do you, Phylicia, take this man to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death parts you?”
Jo stood close behind her sister, holding her bridesmaid’s nosegay in one ha
nd and in the other, Phee’s huge bridal bouquet that had been a gift from her boss at the flower shop. The rain had held off and, although the skies were gray, Phee’s smile made up for any lack of sunshine.
Her sister was radiant with her hair in an old-fashioned French braid and a crown of baby’s breath in lieu of a veil.
Tears had flowed down Dad’s cheeks as he gave Phee away, and Jo knew that everyone under this tent had noticed the gaping hole when his answer to “Who gives this woman …” had been a simple “I do,” rather than the traditional “her mother and I” that so many took for granted.
There was a candle burning on the makeshift altar in honor of Mom, and the rag garland fluttering overhead had Mom’s fingerprints all over it. Jo hoped Phee felt their mother’s presence as much as she did. Like Dad said, Mom lived on in her three daughters. As Quinn and Phee pledged to love and honor each other, Jo determined to make Mom proud and to be as much like the woman who’d raised her as she could possibly be. Though in this moment, that seemed an impossible task.
Phee had carefully planned the timing of the ceremony so that Pastor Franklin would pronounce Quinn and Phylicia man and wife just as the sun began to set. But she couldn’t possibly have planned what actually happened. A little gasp went up from the guests as the sun broke through the haze just in time to sink slowly behind the hills in a blaze of sherbet colors. Pink and orange light bathed the tent as Quinn kissed his bride.
Seconds later, tiny lights began to twinkle like starlight in a wave that swept from the back of the tent forward. Jo cheered under her breath, and she knew Phee and Britt were doing the same. She and her sisters and Quinn had practiced the effect with a timer at least a dozen times in secret, and as they’d hoped, it was magical. More than magical coming on the tail of the sunset God provided.
The string quartet lifted their instruments and the recessional began. And just like that, Phylicia was no longer technically a Chandler. She was a Mitchell now. And that was a lovely thing. Still, Jo fought tears that weren’t entirely happy ones.
Pasting on a smile, she handed Phee her bouquet, knelt to straighten the hem of her sister’s simple bridal gown, and cheered with the rest of the loved ones beneath the tent. She took the arm of Quinn’s brother, the best man, and followed the bride and groom to the rear of the tent.
They’d taken pictures earlier, so now, while guests mingled at the edges of the clearing, the plan was for the sisters to meet back in the cabin that had served as their dressing room and wait while the caterers brought in the dessert table and Quinn’s friends set up the small makeshift dance floor they’d built. Then they’d make their grand entrance. Jo had asked them to put the flooring in storage after tonight because she still had hopes of renting out the clearing as a wedding and reception venue.
As they descended the steps built into the side of the hill—lit tonight with myriad twinkle lights—she caught a glimpse of Luke’s truck with the MO-DJ logo parked down by the cottage. Good. He’d have plenty of time to get everything set up while guests were entertained by the wedding musicians. After that, Phee’s special night would continue to be filled with music, thanks to MO-DJ. Jo had talked to two other summer brides this past week who’d told her how lucky she was to find Luke on such short notice.
With that thought, she relaxed a little for the first time since Phee had announced her wedding date. Everything was going beautifully, and tomorrow it would all be only a memory—a beautiful one—as Phee and Quinn winged their way to Hawaii for their honeymoon. Only she, Britt, and their dad knew that the honeymooners were staying at Quinn’s house tonight. And only she and Britt knew about the flowers, champagne and chocolates, and other special little gifts that would be waiting for them there.
Quinn had agreed to sleep in the guest room at his own house this past week while Jo and Britt sneaked behind their sister’s back, replacing the masculine decor in Quinn’s master bedroom with pretty new curtains, bed linens, and plush towels for the master bath. It was a gift from the sisters that could be moved to the new home they would build here on Poplar Brook Road.
It had all turned out to be such a perfectly happy ending for Phylicia. No, not an ending at all, Jo thought. It was only the beginning for Quinn and Phee.
Tonight she would celebrate that new beginning for her sister. But picking her way down the spongy steps in the hillside lit only by flickering twinkle lights, Jo sighed and whispered a prayer that somehow, someday, she could have her own happily ever after.
CHAPTER 12
LUKE SLID UP THE VOLUME on a new set of dance tunes and straddled the bar stool behind his table. He’d gotten through the parts that required the most of him—announcing the father-daughter dance and the other special dances the couple had requested. From here on out he just needed to keep the music flowing and change things up every few songs. “Something for everyone” was his motto. Well, except the Barry Manilow fans. They were out of luck. He smiled to himself, remembering his conversation with Joanna Chandler and the bride and groom during the walk-through.
He thought that Joanna was happy with the way things were going. He could almost see her pride in having pulled off this simple but delightful wedding for her sister. He’d been watching her all night, somehow unable to keep his eyes off her, much as he tried. She was simply radiant tonight. And the … was it longing? … in her expression while the bride and groom danced to Matthew West’s “When I Say I Do” put a lump in his throat. Of course that song got to him anyway. This was a crazy life and Luke had always hoped to have a wife by his side to share it with. And if that woman turned out to be as beautiful as Joanna Chandler, he certainly wouldn’t complain.
If he’d known Joanna better, he would have left his duties and asked her to dance. But he didn’t, and besides, it was almost more fun to watch her work the room. She never stole the spotlight from the bride, but made everyone feel welcome.
Still, every time a different man asked her to dance, Luke watched carefully to be sure sparks weren’t flying. But Joanna wasn’t a flirt, and instead treated every man more like an older brother or a beloved uncle.
Joanna thanked an elderly man for a dance and, still smiling, headed toward the DJ table. Winking at Luke, she approached Mateo, who stood off to one side of the table. “Would you like to dance, young man?”
There was such confidence in her question. Luke could tell it hadn’t crossed her mind that he might turn her down. He shot up a prayer that the boy wouldn’t be rude to her.
Mateo shuffled his feet and twisted the brown beads at his throat.
Come on, buddy. Just say yes. You can do it. Luke would have traded places with him in a heartbeat.
But as Luke expected, Mateo dropped his head and mumbled something that could only be interpreted as a refusal.
“Oh. Okay.” She smiled, but it wasn’t the genuine smile of a few seconds ago. “Did you get something to eat yet? There’s plenty for seconds if you want.”
Mateo gave a curt nod and turned away, pretending to be interested in something on the ground. Luke made a mental note to work on manners. He debated whether to apologize to Joanna on the boy’s behalf.
She turned and caught his eye, making up his mind for him.
“Sorry,” he mouthed, pointing at Mateo and frowning.
Her smile brightened and she came up to his table. He quickly cued a set that would give him a good ten minutes to talk with her.
He came around to the front of his table so he wouldn’t need to shout and apologized for Mateo again. “We need to work on manners, I guess.”
She waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t Miss Manners at that age either. And I’m guessing a wedding is about the last place on earth a twelve-year-old boy wants to be on a Saturday night.”
He laughed. “That’s probably about right. Although you’d think the food would balance things out.”
“Oh! Speaking of food, did you get a plate?”
“Oh, no.” He held up a hand. “I�
�m working.”
“You can’t work and eat? I’d be happy to bring you a plate.”
“Well, I must admit I caught a glimpse of that angel food cake and … I might have drooled a little bit.” He feigned wiping his mouth on the cuff of his shirt.
That earned him a smile. “Stay right here. I’ll get you a piece. What else do you like? There are still some finger sandwiches left and maybe something bacon-wrapped.”
“I would not turn down any item you just named.”
She looked pleased. “I’ll be right back. Can I bring a plate for Mateo?” She looked over her shoulder toward where he’d been standing earlier.
Luke followed her line of sight, but didn’t see Mateo anywhere. “That’s probably where he is right now. He had some cake earlier, so I think he can fend for himself. Especially if he won’t even dance with you.”
She winced, then tried to conceal it. “It’s okay. Really.”
“Well, I didn’t hear the whole exchange, but if he was rude, I do apologize.”
“He wasn’t rude exactly.” Luke had put her on the spot. She didn’t want to be a tattletale, but the way Mateo had spoken to her was anything but polite. “Don’t worry about it. How … how are you both holding up?”
Luke didn’t mean the sigh to come out as loud as it did.
“That bad, huh?”
“Mateo is great. He really is. It’s just weird having responsibility for another human being. Twenty-four seven.”
“So, how much longer do you have him for?”
He shrugged. “We’re just kind of taking one day at a time right now.” He knew it sounded like an evasion, but the truth was, he didn’t know the answer to her question. He’d made promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.
“Well, I think you’re doing a wonderful thing. Letting him stay with you while things get worked out.”
“No. I’m just hanging on for dear life.” He spotted Mateo headed their way with a plate of food. He gave a little nod to let Joanna know the object of their conversation was approaching.
Chasing Dreams Page 8
