A Vineyard Wedding

by Katie Winters

  Christine lifted her eyes to the other women at the table. Not a single eye remained dry.

  “She was such a poet, wasn’t she?” Christine breathed.

  The five of them held hands after that. They closed their eyes and they prayed, each of them quietly, their heads filled with sorrow, longing, joy and fear. In a way, Anna Sheridan sat along with them. In a way, she had been there with them all along.

  Chapter Four

  Amanda hovered over Susan’s desk with her hands on her hips as Susan explained the events that had transpired the previous afternoon, prior to her departure from the office. Susan had printed countless documents about the case, which were currently spread across her desk, including information about the selected jury members, along with testimonials about the lawyer the boy’s family had hired for the case. It was essential that Susan understand the working mind of this lawyer so that she could potentially perceive how he might act in a court of law and what mechanisms he might use to convince the jury that Marcie Shean had committed this heinous act. She had also contacted Marcie’s previous lawyer and they had assured her that they would courier over the files the following day.

  Even now, she caught Amanda’s eyes glittering with excitement. “This is big, Mom.”

  Susan leaned back in her chair, then looked up at her daughter with a grin. “I know.”

  Amanda paced for a moment, to and fro, before the desk. “I mean, it’s big in about a million different ways. It’s a huge, high-profile case, and it would definitely sky-rocket your name into the legal stratosphere, you know?”

  “Oh, I know.” Susan had worked high-profile cases before, but mostly, she’d worked alongside Richard, and both of them had received the accolades. This would be mostly just her. It thrilled her.

  “But beyond that, it’s going to take up so much of your time. Have you looked into why Marcie lost her lawyer in the first place? What happened there?”

  In truth, Susan didn’t really care why Marcia’s previous lawyer had dropped her case. It sounded like it was a personal issue. She only worried about the files arriving safely and in time. She shivered but set her jaw and said, “I haven’t been allowed to sink my teeth into a challenge like this in years.”

  “But you’re not just doing it for the thrill of it, right? Because there are other things you could get thrills out of, you know. Like picking out a wedding dress? Or letting Christine know what you want for your wedding cake? At least the flavor or icing.”

  Susan rolled her eyes all the way back as Amanda giggled.

  “I know. Silly of me to ask. This is clearly where your heart is,” Amanda said. She then began to gather up the papers as she muttered, “But you won’t be able to do it without me. This—” Amanda’s hand circled over her mother’s desk that was strewn with papers everywhere. “Is so unorganized, Mom. I don’t know how you managed before without me.”

  “I guess Penelope had something to do with all that organization,” Susan admitted as she squinted her eyes playfully.

  “Mom!”

  Penelope was, of course, the secretary Richard had left Susan for. She was now thirty-two years old and pregnant with their first child. The news of this had reached them around the time of Amanda’s failed wedding, which meant that Penelope was about half as big as a whale.

  Still, it had been a long time since Susan had felt any resentment toward either of them. They had gone for the cliché: husband falls for secretary, leaves long-time wife scenario. But Susan had gone for her own cliché. She’d decided instead to create a new life for herself and find real happiness with a man who would love her unconditionally for the rest of her days. They’d all gotten exactly what they had wanted.

  Except for Richard, maybe. He had already raised two kids! Susan had thanked her lucky stars above when the days of sticky car seats and all-day soccer matches had ended.

  “So, I’ll have these organized for you; I’ll make copies, and I’ll call up the previous lawyer if our files don’t arrive tomorrow?” Amanda said from the door.

  Susan nodded. “Sounds great.”

  “Are you coming home for dinner?”

  “No. I have to see Scott tonight! We keep missing each other,” Susan said. Her heart ballooned with excitement. How she longed to hold Scott in her arms and speak to him about this upcoming court case and Christine’s new baby, and how everything she’d ever dreamed of seemed to be happening for her right now.

  SUSAN TEXTED SCOTT when she left the office.

  SUSAN: I’m headed to you! See you soon.

  But when she glanced at her phone a few seconds later, she realized that the message had only one “checkmark,” which meant that the message hadn’t gone to Scott’s phone. She had never seen the likes of this before. Always, Scott was a responsible guy, the kind who brought a backup charger and never left the house unless his phone battery was at eighty percent or higher.

  Susan drove over to Scott’s little cabin as the radio sizzled through various old tracks from the ’80s. When she pulled into Scott’s driveway, she found it lifeless, and the cabin itself seemed empty. Her stomach felt hollow and strange. When she walked up to the front door, she found it locked. Normally, Scott didn’t even bother locking it. She lifted her keys from her pocket and weaved her way inside, where she found a house in a state of mid-morning chaos. A half-eaten bowl of oatmeal sat on the table; the bed remained unmade. A bath towel was stretched across the ground as though Scott had flung it off himself on the hunt for pants.

  Susan texted him again.

  SUSAN: Hey. Are you okay?

  She still only saw one checkmark. Susan shivered and walked to the counter, where she opened a bottle of wine. As Scott didn’t have any wine glasses, she poured the wine into a coffee mug and stared out across the waves. It wasn’t a particularly beautiful day; clouds were heavy on the horizon, and the waves cut toward the sands ominously, as though designed to hurt.

  Was it possible that Scott had been injured? Susan swallowed the lump in her throat, along with her wine, and tried to think about what to do next. Perhaps she could call the hospital? She reached for her phone and dialed Christine, who she knew had decided to help Zach that night at the bistro.

  “Hey, Chris.”

  On the other line, there was the hustle and bustle, the endless laughter and chatter, of the bistro as the evening shift flourished.

  “Hey, girl! What’s up?” She sounded breathless.

  “I was wondering if you’d seen Scott around the Inn at all?”

  “Gosh, no. I walked right into the bistro and Zach put me to work.”

  “All right. Tell him not to work you too hard. You’re carrying his baby, after all.”

  Christine laughed, then spoke to someone else, saying, “Yes, we have your four-top ready. You’ll have to speak to Ronny up at the front of the house.” She then returned to the phone and added, “Is anything wrong? You can’t find Scott?”

  Susan feigned a laugh. “It’s no problem. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. I’m just trying to track him down because I’m hungry for dinner.”

  “Well, let me know when you find him. I gotta run. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Susan sipped her wine and continued to gaze out the window at the driveway as though it could produce Scott at any moment. Her heart pounded heavier. In a moment, she called both Amanda and Audrey, neither of whom had seen nor heard of Scott. In the background, Max wept and Audrey hurried off to take care of him. Susan felt so alone after she hung up.

  But just as she gathered her things to head out to her car and trace her path back home, she spotted Scott’s truck at the far end of the driveway. She stopped on the porch and watched, unable to lift the sides of her lips for any kind of smile. Midway down the driveway, she realized there was a second person in the truck. She tilted her head until it came fully into view. And in a moment, after the engine stopped and Scott unlocked the doors, none other than Scott’s teenage son, Kellan, stepp
ed out from the truck. Susan hadn’t seen him in quite some time — maybe not since Christmas, as Kellan lived with his mother up in Boston and was busy with school.

  Kellan looked different. His hair was longer and unkept; his legs and arms seemed longer and lankier; and his shoulders sagged, as though the weight of the world was too much for him. He lifted his chin so that his eyes connected with Susan’s, but he didn’t return her smile.

  It was clear that something had gone very wrong.

  Scott hustled up the front walkway and then up the stairs. Out of breath, he said, “Susan, I’m so sorry. I left my stupid phone at the Inn and I just only realized it when I was on the road to Boston.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Susan assured him, even as her throat tightened. “I see we have a visitor?”

  Scott turned back as Kellan mounted the steps.

  “What do you think, champ? You want to order some food?” She could see Scott was trying to step back into his role as Dad but slightly failing by the look on Kellan’s face.

  “I’ll grab some of the menus,” Susan said. “Mexican? Chinese? Thai? Pick your poison.”

  Scott gave her a wonderful smile, even as her insides threatened to pop. He squeezed her upper arm as he led Kellan into the house. Once inside, Susan found the food menus in a little basket and splayed them out for Kellan, who seemed to not care at all what was for dinner.

  “I’ll go grab your backpack,” Scott said. “While you decide.”

  Susan followed Scott out toward the truck. All the way, Scott was dead silent. She could feel the turbulence of his head as it swirled wildly. Once at the truck, he drew the top up and blinked into the darkness.

  “Scott.” Susan stood beside him but felt they were separated by oceans. “Scott, are you going to talk to me?”

  Scott closed his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

  Susan splayed her hand across his back. At her touch, he actually flinched — something he had never done. She felt strangely uncomfortable and unwelcomed at that moment.

  “I started hearing about this only last week. I haven’t been able to fully comprehend it,” Scott began. “But apparently, Kellan has had some serious trouble at school.”

  Susan’s eyes widened. “What kind of trouble?”

  “Well, I guess he was bullied a lot.” Scott scrunched his nose. The pain of it seemed extraordinary. “And recently, he’s started to fight back— rather violently.”

  Susan’s heart dropped. Although she didn’t know Kellan well, he had always been such a kind, pleasant, artistic kid. The previous summer, she had watched as he and her father, Wes, had swapped stories about the birds they liked the best, as both frequently bird-watched.

  “I guess he just snapped,” Scott said. “I can’t say I fully blame him. They put him through a lot. But apparently, if he didn’t move school districts, his mother was going to agree to have him put in a juvenile detention facility.”

  “What?” Susan was totally taken aback. “Juvie?”

  Scott nodded. “She told me this afternoon. I totally lost my mind, so I got in my truck and headed straight to Boston. We had his bag packed in five minutes. My ex howled at me the whole time. She said there was no way she could handle him anymore. Said that I never should have stayed on ‘this stupid island,’ and I should have followed her to Boston like a real man to take care of our son. In a way, I feel she’s right. But I need to be there for him, now.”

  Susan’s mouth went completely dry. Scott smacked the top of the truck back down and gathered Kellan’s backpack across his back. “We’ll have to go back to Boston to get the rest of his stuff. It was just so rushed. And I didn’t want it to feel like whiplash to him, you know? That’s the only home he’s known for years and he barely remembers the island, other than various short trips over the years.”

  Susan felt herself nod as Scott stepped back toward the house. He glanced around as though he waited for her to come up. But she just waved a hand.

  “It seems like you two have a lot to talk about,” she said. “I don’t want to get in the way. He probably thinks I’ll never understand any of it.”

  Scott dropped his shoulders. His eyes searched hers. She wanted to tell him that she would understand when the time was ready, but right now, he needed time alone with Kellan to work things out between them. She could feel the emotions in the air and she didn’t want to add any stress to his already chaotic day.

  But now that Kellan was fully in Scott’s life without him even asking her about it beforehand — what did that mean for Susan? According to Amanda (the ever-responsible note-taker and calendar-maker), Susan and Scott’s wedding was only six weeks away. But this felt like another nail in some kind of coffin. Susan’s heart felt heavy with doom.

  Chapter Five

  Susan latched the door closed at the Sheridan house and listened for the familiar creaks as it allowed the ocean breeze to mold and shift the floors and walls. The house seemed empty. No laughter billowed out from the back porch, the television wasn’t on and nothing brewed on the stovetop. Thusly, when Susan stepped into the living area and discovered Lola, with her long naked legs stretched out in front of her on the floor, her back against the bottom of the sofa, and baby Max in the crook of her arm, she was initially startled yet grateful. She was thankful that someone was home and awake.

  “Hi!” Lola had removed her makeup and looked somehow more youthful. She blinked large eyes up at Susan and nodded toward baby Max. “He’s been out for twenty minutes, but I’ve been too afraid to move. Didn’t think you were coming home, though? Amanda said you were headed to Scott’s.”

  “Yeah, I was.” Susan buzzed her lips and reached for some sparkling water on the counter. She poured them two glasses, then sat on the floor across from Lola, who assessed her with a furrowed brow.

  “Something’s wrong.”

  Susan shrugged. “I don’t know. No. It doesn’t really matter.”

  Lola sipped her water as the silence stretched between them. “You know, we’ve been through too much to keep secrets from each other.”

  “True.” Susan rolled a bit of the liquid across her tongue as she considered this. “Scott’s son is here. It seems like he might be here for a while and I’m not sure what to think about it.”

  “Phew.” Lola’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline. “A teenage boy in your life.”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s a doozy for sure.”

  “I don’t know how to process it. So I might just throw myself totally into work.”

  “Amanda is going to kill you if you don’t finalize stuff for the wedding.”

  “Maybe there won’t even be—”

  “Hey. Don’t talk like that.” Lola shook her head delicately. Again, they shared a moment of silence. “Why don’t you tell me about this case? Amanda said there’s a new, big one—”

  “Boston. Twenty-five-year-old girl who supposedly murdered her boyfriend.”

  Lola’s lips formed an O. “You’re telling me your client is Marcie Shean?”

  “You know about this?”

  “This has been the hottest topic in Boston since November,” Lola affirmed. “Everyone has their own opinion about it, but most people tend to think, well...”

  “What?”

  “That she did it.”

  Susan chuckled. “Great.”

  “Just saying. You’re up against a whole city of opinions,” Lola said. “So the girl is here? On the island?”

  “Yeah. She’s currently on house arrest. I’m supposed to meet her tomorrow.”

  Lola was impressed. Susan still kind of liked that feeling of impressing her younger sisters. She supposed it never really disappeared.

  “She’s a beautiful girl,” Lola said as Max whimpered in her arms. “I guess that’s either in your favor or a detriment. She’s either too beautiful and, therefore, the obvious villain, or she’s so beautiful that she can’t be anything but innocent. In the eyes of the jury, that is.” />
  “So you’re saying it could go either way? Gee, thanks.” Susan grinned wider, grateful to speak about something that wasn’t her fiancé’s troubled teenager.

  “You know, one of my friends up in Boston covers that case for the paper,” Lola said. “You should talk to her. She knows just about everything there is to know about the case, and I’m sure you feel rushed as it is. Maybe she could fill in the gaps.”

  “That would be fantastic,” Susan said. “Really.”

  “Bet you never thought your baby sister would swing in for the assist?”

  “I never thought I’d see my baby sister become a grandmother,” Susan retorted. “But look at you. You’re a natural.”

  “Just have to dye my hair blue and get a perm, like the other grannies,” Lola, who looked fit for any fashion magazine, joked.

  “Are you staying here tonight? Or is Tommy expecting you?” Susan lifted up from the ground to grab a snack from the counter — homemade granola bars, which were Amanda’s newfound specialty.

  “He expects me. The girls should be back from their dates—”

  “Dates?” Susan’s heart jumped.

  “I mean, they’d never call them dates. But they’re hanging out with Sam and that other guy from the NICU. Noah.”

  Susan arched an eyebrow. “Leave it to Audrey to meet some handsome man at the NICU, huh?”

  Lola grinned. “The apple doesn’t fall so far from the tree, I guess. I can’t really pick her apart for it and besides, she’s only twenty. I like seeing her out and about. I like seeing her happy. It’s been such a hard year for all of us. One day at a time, right?”

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, just after nine, Susan watched herself in horror as she accidentally spilled a huge drop of piping-hot coffee across her blouse. She remained in her car, stationed just outside of the house in which Marcie Shean lived out her house arrest until her trial.