by Molly Harper
“It is when it involves my granddaughters.”
“Let’s not say anything we’re going to regret,” Hal said. “Rosie, Kyle has been nothing but respectful of Maggie’s memory. He waited more than enough time to find someone else, and that’s what our daughter would have wanted.”
“Our daughter can’t want anything because she’s dead,” Rosie hissed.
“Look, I would never want to hurt you,” Kyle said in the lowest and most serious tone of voice Margot had ever heard him use. “And I would never try to interfere with your relationship with June and Hazel. But frankly, you don’t get to tell me how my family is going to live. You don’t get to tell me how we’re going to raise the girls. And you don’t get to tell me when and how I’m going to get married. You can be civil and be part of our family, or you can behave like you are now and find yourselves outside of it.”
Hal protested, “Now, Kyle, I think we all just need to calm down here.”
“I agree. I think we should all get up from this table and not speak again until we can all be civil,” Margot said, her voice wobblier than she expected.
“I’m sorry, Kyle,” Hal said.
Kyle nodded sharply and stood, helping Margot from her chair. He pulled her onto the dance floor, where other couples were two-stepping to the strains of one of the rare country-western classics not about heartbreak. He pulled her into his arms, his posture still ramrod straight.
“I’m so sorry about that,” he whispered in her ear.
“You didn’t do anything to cause that. They’re hurting and they’re scared and I’m trying not to hold that against them,” Margot said, leaning her forehead against his. “How are you doing? That had to hurt.”
He nodded. “I’m trying to remember what Maggie would have wanted, without allowing anyone or anything to hurt your feelings.”
She stroked his hair behind his ear. “You know, you’re a good man.”
“I’ve heard rumors,” he said, kissing her lightly.
“I don’t care what anybody else says.”
He snickered.
“But you can’t control everything.” She sighed. “And every once in a while, someone or something is going to hurt my feelings. It will help, knowing that you’re trying to keep the balance. Maybe we should just call it a night and go home?”
Kyle’s eyebrows winged up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I don’t want to spend the rest of the night trying to avoid eye contact with Rosie and Hal. Plus, let’s face it, I’m approaching the end of my tolerance for standing in these heels. And since everybody’s here, maybe we can go back to the parking lot at the Dirty Deer and relive the night we met,” she said.
He gasped, and then glanced down at her belly. “Are the mechanics of that even possible?”
“If we push the passenger seat all the way back.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Can you go get me, like, six of those cake ball things?”
Kyle nodded, his expression quite serious. “I think that can be arranged. I have a contact on the inside.”
“I’ll just go wait in the truck.”
Kyle kissed her thoroughly, considering that they were standing. “You are already the most amazing wife ever.”
6
NOW THAT SHE had seen the inside of Juno’s, she knew to vet the children’s store where she planned to buy the girls’ dresses. She managed to avoid several miniature pageant dress nightmares just through the magic of Google. Tiny Togs in Alpharetta was definitely more oriented toward “nice clothes for children in formal situations” than “stick your child in these many layers of ruffles and sequins so the judges don’t notice she’s a toddler and not a twenty-one-year-old debutante.”
There were little suits with matching ties and elegant lace dresses proudly displayed against a backdrop of subtle pastels and carefully framed illustrations from old fairy tale books. It was bright and cheerful without being too babyish to appeal to the elementary school customers. And the accessories section was set up to look like Ali Baba’s cave, a treasure trove of sparkly objects to try on in front of a dozen fancy vintage mirrors.
Hazel and June were beside themselves with joy, running all over the store, squealing over dresses, demanding to try on multiple tiaras at once.
“I think I have made a mistake,” Margot whispered as June got a fourth tiara tangled in her dark blond hair.
“No, this is normal,” Marianne promised her. “Just let them run off a little steam while you find some things for them to try on. I’ll keep an eye on them and prevent any property damage. And just remember, we’re going to lunch after this at that cheesecake restaurant you like so much.”
“Cheesecake.” Margot nodded. “And egregiously large portions of pasta.”
“Exactly, and I carefully packed a pecan pie from Lucy’s place in the trunk of my car, and when we get all this shopping done, I will give it to you.”
“Have I mentioned you’re my favorite cousin?”
“Yes, and it’s well deserved.” Marianne preened.
For the first time in this whole planning process, Margot didn’t struggle with choices. She knew that the girls wouldn’t want matching dresses. June’s style was much more “eclectic” than Hazel’s more classic sensibilities. For Hazel, she found several very elegant selections, but she favored a very feminine sleeveless dress with a natural waist and rounded neckline embroidered with little pearls. It was very grown-up and would complement Hazel’s fair skin tone. For June, Margot was almost overwhelmed by the selection of colorful sashes, but what she loved was the white dress with a tulle overlay in a dozen colors, so it looked like a rainbow springing from her waist.
“Okay, girls!” Margot called. “I have some things for you to try on!”
“But, Mom, sparkly!” June called back, trying to jam yet another tiara on her head.
Margot tried to balance her commitment to the shopping task at hand against the little flip her heart did every time June called her Mom. “We’ll definitely get you a tiara but we need to find dresses for you guys, okay?”
“But . . . sparkly!” June cried again, her voice lowering to what could be considered “possession” territory.
Margot approached the girls, her mouth turned at a thoughtful angle. How would she have handled this when she was still working for Elite Elegance? How would she have placated a temperamental chef or socialite? “Okay, both of you, pick out a tiara and you can wear them while you’re trying on clothes.”
June chewed her plump little bottom lip while narrowing her dark eyes at Margot. “All right.”
June swept past Margot into the little dressing room, her tiara tilted at a rakish angle. Hazel was still hovering near the display of bracelets. Margot turned to Marianne, holding up her hands. “I know, it’s bad parenting to bribe them.”
Marianne’s shoulders jerked. “I have to bribe Nathan with a trip to the bookstore before we go school clothes shopping. I won’t mention the shameful amount of sweet-talking it takes to get Aiden to try on shoes.”
“Thank you, I feel better,” Margot told her, sinking gratefully down onto the rosy-pink couch. “Hazel, honey, you want to come try these on?”
Hazel reluctantly drifted over to the pile of dresses Margot had arranged on the footstool in front of her.
“I think this one is particularly nice and will make you look very grown-up,” Margot said of the sleeveless pearled dress.
And to Margot’s shock, instead of enthusiasm, she could almost see the nope forming behind Hazel’s eyes.
“I don’t want to try that one on,” Hazel said, shaking her head.
“Oh, okay,” Margot said, dropping the dress entirely. “Is there something else you want to try on?”
Hazel shook her head, her face flushing red.
“It doesn’t have to be white. It doesn’t even have to be a dress, if that’s what’s bothering you. You can wear pants or a cute shorts outfit. Anything you want. I just want you to be happy.”
Haze
l’s big brown eyes filmed over with tears and her lip started to tremble. And Margot’s insides turned to water. “I don’t want to have to wear anything to the wedding. I don’t want there to be any wedding at all. I don’t even see why you and Dad have to get married in the first place. Lots of people have babies without getting married.”
Having only just recovered from Rosie’s opinions on her marriage to Kyle, hearing Hazel practically quote her grandmother verbatim felt like a blow to Margot’s chest. She glanced over to Marianne, who was already pushing up from the couch. She patted Margot’s shoulder as she passed. “I think I’m just going to go check on June.”
“It’s not that I don’t like you, Margot. You’re nice to June and to Dad. And I like that you’re living with us now. And I like that you’re having a baby. But I don’t see why you and Dad have to get married.”
Margot nodded, breathing deeply through her nose. “Okay, thank you for telling me what you think. I can tell it’s bothering you a lot. And your dad and I are getting married because we love each other, and we want to spend the rest of our lives together. And we want to be a family, and yeah, there are a lot of people out there who make families without getting married, and that’s fine. Everybody does things their own way. This is how we want to do things for our family. But honestly, it’s your family, too, and if you want to go home right now and talk to your dad about this, we can talk about putting the wedding off for a while.”
And somehow, this only served to make things worse. The tears that were only threatening before were now spilling down her cheeks. “No, because that’s just going to make him upset. He wants to marry you. He’s said so. And you guys are making all these plans . . .”
“There is nothing we have bought or planned that is more important than you, okay?”
Hazel shook her head. “I just can’t talk to him about this and I don’t want to tell him to put the wedding off!”
Hazel started crying, huge shuddering sobs that shook her little body. Margot carefully stroked her hand down Hazel’s crown, smoothing her hair. “I’m trying to listen to what you’re saying, but I don’t get what it is you want me to do here.”
“I don’t want to call you Mom,” Hazel sobbed into her hands.
“Oh.” Margot sighed, wrapping her arms around Hazel and hugging her close. “Honey, you don’t have to. It won’t hurt my feelings, I promise.”
“Really?” Hazel hiccupped.
“Really.”
“But June is already calling you Mom.”
“Yeah, and that’s June. She wanted to call me Mom, so she does. You and I don’t have to have the same sort of relationship that June and I have. I won’t feel any differently about you if you don’t call me Mom,” Margot assured her. “You call me whatever makes you comfortable. Unless, you know, it’s one of those words that would get you in trouble at school. I really need to learn not to give you carte blanche opportunities like that.”
“What does that mean?” Hazel asked, frowning.
“It means I give you a lot of leeway because I love you so darn much.”
“I like you a lot, too,” Hazel said, hugging her back. “I don’t know if I love you, but I don’t hate you the way that Jenny at school hates her stepmom.”
Margot grimaced into Hazel’s hair. Fifth grader Jenny Brownley was somewhat famous in the elementary school set for drawing inappropriate mustaches in black Sharpie on her sleeping stepmother’s face.
Hazel sniffled. “I’m afraid I’m going to forget about her. Dad tries to make sure we have pictures of her around the house so we can remember her face, but the memories I have, sometimes I have trouble making them come up in my head. It’s like I’m trying to make a movie play, but it won’t work.”
“That’s normal,” Margot told her. “From everything I hear, that’s totally normal. I lost my mom a few years ago, when I was much older than you, and there are times when I have trouble remembering exactly what she looked like without photos.”
“I forgot that your mom died, too,” Hazel said, tilting her head against Margot’s side. “Jenny said that when her dad married her stepmom, her stepmom moved all of the pictures of Jenny’s mom out of the house. I won’t be able to remember Mom at all if there are no pictures of her in the house.”
Margot pulled her close against her chest, sighing in relief. This was what had been sticking in Hazel’s craw over the last few weeks. She wasn’t angry; she was scared. Margot could work with scared. Because she was scared, too.
Margot struggled for a steady voice, nuzzling her cheek against Hazel’s head. “Oh, Hazel, I promise, I’m not going to move your mom’s pictures out of the house. I’m not going to change things around. I’m not going to try to replace your mom or do anything to make you try to forget her and leave her out. That wouldn’t be right. Your mom is always going to be a part of your family, and her picture belongs in the house with the rest of us. That’s what families do. They make room for people they love. When I came back to town, no one in my family really knew who I was, but they made room for me, they included me. You loved your mom, and that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for you to love me, too. Someday, if you want.”
Hazel thought about that for a long moment and then patted Margot’s arm. “Okay, you can marry my dad now.”
“Thank you.” Margot laughed, a watery sound that was covered up by June exploding out of the dressing room in a flurry of rainbow color and tulle.
“I LOVE IT!” June thundered, twirling so the stripes of rainbow tulle swirled wide. She stopped suddenly at the sight of Margot’s and Hazel’s faces. “What happened? Why are you crying? Did someone hurt your feelings? Where are they?”
With an expression that reminded Margot uncomfortably of Frankie, June’s eyes darted around the store for the rude person she must punish to avenge her sister’s feelings.
“No, sweetheart, we were just talking. Everything is fine. And that looks great!”
“Can I wear it to school?” June asked. “Every day?”
“Probably not,” Margot said. “But we will buy it, because it is clearly the dress and gives you the dress feeling, which must be recognized and respected.”
“What’s the dress feeling?” Hazel asked, sitting up and wiping at her cheeks.
“It’s that feeling you get when you try on a dress that makes you feel beautiful and you know it’s going to be perfect for whatever you need it for, and you have to buy it. It only comes along every once in a while, so you have to pay attention to it. If you’re getting that feeling all of the time, you don’t have the dress feeling, you have a compulsive shopping problem.”
Marianne snickered.
“So have you had the dress feeling when you were looking for wedding dresses?” Hazel asked.
“Not yet, kiddo.”
“Well, that’s too bad.” June said, flouncing her skirt. “Because this is amazing. Especially with my tiara.”
Margot snorted. “Okay, sassy mouth, go change out of the dress and we’ll take it up to the counter to pay for it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” June skipped out of the room.
“I think I want to try that one on,” Hazel said, glancing across the store at a longer dress with a similar tulle skirt to June’s but with silk rose petals in every color loose inside the looped overlay.
“Okay,” Margot said as Marianne went to take the dress off the rack. “But you don’t have to get a rainbow dress just because June got one.”
“I know,” Hazel said, taking it from Marianne. “But I like the way the petals move around inside the skirt. And I like the colors. It doesn’t hurt to try something different.”
“Great, let us know if you need help zipping up,” Margot said as Hazel ran off to the dressing room.
“Okay!”
Marianne flopped onto the couch next to Margot and put her arm around her cousin. “You handled that really well. I heard most of it from the dressing room.”
“Thanks. Did June hear?” M
argot asked.
“Nah, I kept her distracted.”
“Thank you.” Margot leaned into the side hug Marianne gave her. “This ‘being a grown-up’ thing is rough.”
“Indeed, it is.”
The baby nudged Margot’s belly, making it jump beneath her shirt. Margot glanced down at her middle. “Oh, what would you know about it?”
7
MARGOT STEPPED THROUGH the front door of Lucy’s shop, Gimme Some Sugar, grateful for the elastic panel at the front of her pants because she planned to do some damage to the adorable little display of cupcakes Lucy had arranged on a two-tier pastry tray.
Of all the wedding planning tasks, this was the one thing she was really looking forward to. Sure, they couldn’t decide on a caterer or a dress she didn’t feel hideous in, but if there was anything she was qualified for, it was determining which flavors of cake she liked. Honestly, the cake was a pretty minor detail overall, considering they didn’t have, say . . . a date and place. She just wanted to complete this one task and she would feel like she had actually accomplished something in regard to her wedding.
The bakery was adorable. Lucy had painted the walls a playful shade of light purple with white trim and framing. It made for a comfortable space but kept the customers’ focus on the display case—which was empty, as the shop wasn’t open that day. A section of wall covered in chalkboard paint and framed by what Margot knew to be Duffy’s work listed the daily specials in curlicued chalk letters. But Margot focused on the cupcakes, each swirled with perfectly symmetrical mounds of piped frosting. This was probably the most sophisticated and trendy establishment in the whole of Lake Sackett, and if the cakes were as good as her pecan pie, Lucy already had the job.
Margot finally tore her eyes away from the luscious display of cupcakes and looked at the baker herself. Lucy looked pale, and not just in a “didn’t sleep well last night” sort of way. Her mouth was set in angry lines and her eyes looked red and shiny. Margot stopped as quickly as her new “maternity width” heels would allow. “You okay, sweetie? You’re looking a little ‘down in the mouth,’ as Tootie might say. I wouldn’t say it, but the term definitely applies to you this morning.”