Mr. Maybe

by M. Kate Quinn

  A tear slipped from her eye, and she swatted it. Damn him. Damn that fireman with his adorableness. She should have been smarter. But she’d be smarter now.

  Now she had to face the wedding and telling everyone she and that man were over. Her mother would be upset, but she’d act as if it was all her idea to break up with the guy. It would be different from The Incident of last Christmas Eve. The world at large knew Brian had sideswiped her. Now at least, she could tell whatever tale about her breakup she wanted. There were no witnesses, and what was one more lie?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The day of the wedding was one of those spectacular July days saved for magical weddings for brides like Co-Co. The sun was bright, and the clouds in the sky, dotted here and there across the wide expanse of summer blue, looked as if an artist with generous dollops of white paint on his brush had placed the puffs just right.

  Last night Kit had been given a reprieve from the rehearsal dinner. She’d had no business being there in the first place despite the bride’s casual invite. She wasn’t in the wedding, thank the Lord. But her mother was invited to the rehearsal, and Co-Co and her mother decided it would be “nice” if the person who’d turned their grandmother’s gown into a “masterpiece” would be in attendance.

  That would have meant needing to use the breakup story a day early. She just couldn’t do it and face another day with all those people. That would have given everyone a chance to come up with pity remarks, and God only knew what that would have done to her mother’s mood. However, lately her mother’s favorite topic was the kitten named Smokey. She’d actually told Kit that after the rehearsal dinner, she’d gone over to Hop’s to see the fluff ball. Thankfully, Mom hadn’t popped in when she was in the midst of throwing Shane’s belongings onto her stoop.

  Her excuse for the rehearsal had been seamless. Claiming Shane needed to work was totally believable, and throwing in that she’d had to inspect some dresses at the shop had added to the nice tidy lie. As much as she hated spewing bullshit, she’d learned over these crazy weeks that sometimes it was necessary for survival’s sake.

  But now it was today—the wedding and the jig were up. She’d had it planned since yesterday, but this morning as she sat in her robe on the back deck, she called the river to speak to her, soothe her, give her strength. The worst part was she was still so full of lies, not just about telling her family that she and Shane were over. That story had been a falsehood from the start.

  She took a sip of her tepid tea and closed her eyes when a breeze greeted her. The lie that sat heavy in her chest was the one she told herself when she’d said that it didn’t matter, that kicking Shane out of her life and casting the man away were what she wanted and needed.

  She missed him already. She was still capable of telling the truth, and it stung. She’d somehow put her faith in that fireman even when she’d thought her ability to trust was broken beyond repair. Being wrong about him had hurt her more than Brian’s betrayal, and in truth, that part ached like her chest might split in half.

  But she’d learned something else since Brian had hurt her. She learned that she’d survive. Time told her someday she wouldn’t hurt so much about Shane. That had to be true because right now she couldn’t breathe. She let the breeze whip through her hair and bathe her face, silently calling to the river with its reliable babble, willing it to speak to her. But all she heard was the rush of the water flowing over the rocks, the cadence all but chanting his name again and again. Shane. Shane. Shane.

  ****

  The dress she had selected looked nice. It had been no picnic pulling all the size eights off the rack and eliminating them one by one based on how tight they were on her body. By the end of the exercise, she’d had two dresses to choose from.

  Right now standing in front of the full-length mirror behind her door, she looked at her image. The bateau-necked navy sheath gave her a lean line, and it was roomy enough to give her comfort. But nothing would give her comfort today.

  She’d agreed to meet the bride in the small holding room to make sure there were no last-minute stitching needs of the pretty, pretty princess before she made her grand entrance. She was glad that after today she and her needles and thread would be done with her cousin Co-Co. That was the one perk of this day.

  Grabbing her purse, she gave herself one last look in the mirror. Lipstick in place, hair billowy and free, she left to go to the chapel where she’d lie to everyone in attendance. Lordy.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Cars lined the roadway outside the old chapel with the ancient stone façade. Kit loved the look of this place with the small bell tower jutting up like a beacon to all who entered. She swallowed hard as she navigated the flagstone walkway where tulle ribbons were tied into bows on the railings at the stairs.

  A few attendees already sat in the wooden pews, although it was too early for the ceremony. The photographers—three of them, for God’s sake—were setting up their equipment, and what appeared to be a planning person, a tallish woman with her hair in a too-tight bun, was fussing with the floral arrangements and the white fabric runner that had been rolled out onto the aisle.

  The air inside the cavernous space was cool despite the heat outside. The organist up in the balcony played background music that Kit welcomed, the notes soothing and holy. An errant feeling of awe poured over her like water. Peace knocked on her broken heart and wanted in.

  She found the small room where the bride awaited her. She opened the heavy door and stood in the entrance. Co-Co was in front of a wheeled, full-length mirror, most assuredly a piece of the bride’s equipment.

  Aunt Dee Dee looked lovely in her mauve taffeta suit with a peplum. Her hair was starched and choppy, and her earrings dangled, their swaying catching the glints of light coming in from the cross-hatched window.

  But it was Co-Co who stole her breath. Gram’s dress was spectacular on the bride’s tiny frame. The fabric flowed as if it were alive, as if it had breath and a heart of its own. A tear stung the corner of Kit’s eye.

  “Kitty-Kat!” Co-Co opened her arms wide but did not move away from where she stood. Her maid of honor, Kelly, in a billowy yellow chiffon dress, stood at her side. Co-Co’s face beamed, and Kit could not help but notice a quiver to the bride’s perfectly glossed lips. “Well, what do you think, cousin? Do I do our grandmother’s dress justice?”

  With each step toward the bride, Kit willed the peace from the chapel to be with her. She licked her lips and blinked back the moisture in the corner of her eyes. “You’re beautiful, Co-Co.”

  “You think so?”

  Co-Co gently lifted the fabric into her hands and took a tiny yet giant step to stand before Kit. Her perfume, a springtime floral scent, wafted to Kit’s nose. Her makeup was so perfectly applied she looked like a cover of a bridal magazine.

  She grabbed Kit’s hand. “Thank you.” She paused and uttered a small nervous laugh. “Thank you for the magic you’ve done with this gown. It’s perfect.”

  She nodded. “It is perfect.”

  “You look so pretty, Kit,” Aunt Dee Dee cooed. “Your mother told me all about your dress, and she was right. You look like a movie star in it.”

  Kit emitted a noise that sounded like a laugh, but really, it was a release of air that had been trapped in her lungs. Mom had said she looked like a movie star? A lump grew in her throat. She swallowed hard.

  Co-Co pressed her hands together, as if in prayer. “Mom, Kelly, will you excuse Kit and me for a moment?”

  A pause hung heavy in the room, but her maid of honor broke the silence. “I’ll go see how things are progressing out there.”

  “I’ve got to visit the powder room.” Aunt Dee Dee took cautious steps across the wooden floor, hands up for balance, as if she were walking on ice. Maybe those two-inch sling backs weren’t the best choice.

  Kit’s eyes lingered on the closed door after the bride’s companions exited. She could feel Co-Co’s stare from behind her.


  “Kit…”

  She turned her head. “I brought a needle and thread if we need it. Is everything okay with the dress?” Moving into seamstress mode was like shrugging into a favorite old coat. She stepped around Co-Co and examined the back of the dress. She touched her fingers to the fabric-covered buttons. She knew without counting there were thirty-seven. “The buttons are secure.”

  Co-Co covered Kit’s hand. “I want to say something, Kitty-Kat. Please let me.”

  She didn’t want to hear whatever her cousin had to say. Despite its brokenness, her heart thudded in her chest, and she feared that muscle could not take one more tugging before it fell to pieces like a bad game of Jenga.

  “This is your day, Co-Co.”

  She squeezed Kit’s hand. “You’ve been wonderful through this, cousin. I know how selfish I’ve been.” A nervous laugh came from her lips. “Since forever, right? I mean, you’ve had to deal with me and my antics since we were in kindergarten.” She smiled, and that tremble was back on her lips in a discernible quiver.

  Kit’s heart squeezed. Don’t. Please don’t.

  But the bride continued. “I was delighted when I learned you and Shane were so happy. Really that was more selfishness on my part, wasn’t it? If you’re happy, then I can rest easy with what happened with Brian and my being together.” A caustic laugh popped from her mouth. “But don’t think I don’t know in here how much I’ve hurt you.” She closed her fist and held it to the place where her heart beat. “And that’s the price, Kit. I’ll always know.”

  Kit pulled in a breath and expelled. “Co-Co, it’s your wedding day. How you and your groom came to be doesn’t matter now. True love is true love. Right?”

  “You wanted Grammy’s gown. I knew it all along.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Yet you helped make it look like this.” She gently lifted her arms wide, like a bird about to take flight. “You’ve made me beautiful.”

  “You were born beautiful.”

  “Not inside. Not always.”

  “Gram would be proud of you now.”

  A tear dribbled down the bride’s cheek. “Mostly of you, Kitty-Kat. You and Grammy were cut from the same cloth. Both of you funny and likeable, everyone clamoring to be around you to hear what you’ve got to say about any old thing. And like you, she was smart and nice. Really nice. Everyone wanted to be like her.” She swatted at the tear that had dribbled down her face just in time for another one to cascade down the other cheek. “To be like you.”

  Instinctively Kit reached up and stopped the tear from traveling to Co-Co’s chin. They locked gazes as her finger froze where it touched the bride’s face. “Look at you messing with that makeup,” she admonished. “Stop now, Co-Co. Where’s your makeup? Let’s touch you up.”

  “On the table.”

  Kit went to the table and opened what looked like an overnight bag. She withdrew a compact of powder and a brush. “Is this the brush you use for the powder?” She came up to Co-Co with the brush aimed.

  “Yes, but, Kit…”

  “Close your eyes and your mouth, too.”

  Co-Co did as she was told, and Kit tapped the brush into the powder, blew off the excess, and gently dabbed it over her cousin’s expertly applied makeup.

  “You know—”

  “Stop talking for crying out loud, Co-Co.”

  A smile turned up on Co-Co’s mouth. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  The words conjured all the times over the years when the two girls had locked horns. Kit had always been the wronged one, and Co-Co the perpetrator of some sneaky or underhanded escapade. She studied her cousin’s face as she stood there with her chin up and her eyes closed. The false lashes were expertly applied and looked like dark fans feathering out from her eyes. Kit bit down on her lip. Had she been pompous over all this time, knowing she was the self-proclaimed good one, the nice cousin? Had that given her the kind of satisfaction Co-Co had gotten from her own antics? What did it matter now? This young woman was about to embark on her new life, and today of all days this tearful bride wanted Kit to know she was sorry and had even confessed that she’d wished she were more like her.

  “Good as new,” Kit said.

  Co-Co opened her eyes. “Thank you, cousin.”

  “You’re welcome.” They shared a smile.

  The door opened, and Kelly and Aunt Dee Dee came in with their cousin Paul, dapper in his tuxedo. Outside the doorway, music met her ears. The organist was playing the “Bridal Chorus.”

  “Look at you,” Paul gushed, and just the sound of his awe brought another stinging tear to Kit’s eyes.

  She needed to get a grip. She stepped away and made her way toward the door.

  Kelly did a little hop and flashed a grin. “Kit, your man’s out there already.”

  My man? “Shane?”

  “Of course Shane, silly. He looks delicious in that dark suit. Hubba-hubba.”

  Shane was here at the ceremony?

  “I, um, better get out there.” She turned to the bride, who was fussing with her bouquet. They shared a wink.

  “He’s sitting with your mom up in the second row.”

  She went through the door and slowly walked to the chapel, trying to remember how to breathe.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  She made her way to the second row in the now-filled chapel and fixed her gaze on the interaction between Shane and her mother. Shane’s head was tucked low as he spoke to Mom in a whisper that the atmosphere called for. Her mother’s well-coiffed, still-unsettling red head bobbed in agreement with whatever that two-timing fireman was saying to her. Her chest constricted as she tapped the shoulder of the man on the end of the aisle, and he stood to allow Kit’s access to the pew.

  “Hello, darling, you look wonderful.” Her mother squeezed her shoulders in a scrunch of delight. “Doesn’t she, Shane? Doesn’t Kit look divine?”

  Out of necessity, she let her gaze filter to him. His eyes were locked on her, the green in them dark in the subdued lighting of the chapel. A rueful smile claimed his mouth.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “Kit, you’re beautiful.”

  “Why are you here?” Her whisper was acidic.

  “I had to.”

  She turned away from him. There was no point in fixing it now. She’d have to lower the boom eventually that she and Shane were done. But not now. Not in this place. She adjusted herself to sit between her mother and Shane.

  She cast her gaze to the front of the room, and there he was—Brian in a tuxedo, looking as if he belonged on the top of a triple-tiered cake. He fidgeted with the black-satin bow tie at his neck. He was handsome in his finery, but it amazed her how the animosity she’d felt was gone today. He could be a stranger or an actor portraying a groom on a celluloid screen. For that she was grateful. Now she was busy trying to ignore the man seated beside her.

  Shane reached over and placed a program on her lap. “I got one of these for you.”

  Flustered by the feel of his hand on her leg, she fought to not flinch. There would be time later to address this man. She looked down at the pamphlet as she worked to still her mind.

  “There’s a nice tribute to you inside,” he offered.

  “What?”

  “Read it.”

  She glanced down at the cover with the names of the bride and groom in a fancy scripted font. She turned the page to read a listing of all the people involved in the ceremony, the attendants, the parents, the two flower girls, and the family friend who would be doing a reading from scripture. Then at the bottom of the page, she saw her name.

  A special thank you to Kit Baxter, cousin of the bride, for her expertise in turning their grandmother’s wedding gown, a prized family heirloom, into a modern, spectacular dream dress. You make dreams come true.

  She lifted her gaze to meet Shane’s.

  “Looks like you’ve made quite an impression on the bride, huh?”

  “Impressions can be false.” She turne
d away.

  “I was giving you one more minute.”

  Kit turned to her mother’s words. And although she was sure all this tension was making her hallucinate, there was Hop Monaco inching past people in their pew to take a seat beside her mother. He wore a charcoal-gray suit, and his tie, a riot of paisley, was crooked.

  He sat between Kit and her mother. She heard him give his excuse to Mom. “There was no parking out there. I was doing laps around the block.”

  Her mother didn’t look at him, just fanned herself, like a debutante, with her program. “That’s what happens when you’re late.”

  “Better late than never, Red.”

  From the corner of her eye, Kit saw her mother turn to him. Her mouth was in a full ear-to-ear grin. She angled her head in a coy tilt. “Time will tell, old man.”

  Kit elbowed him. Her whisper was hot. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m Regina’s date.” He shrugged. “How’s that grab ya?”

  She wondered what Shane was thinking but forced herself not to turn toward him.

  The procession began with Brian’s mother being ushered down the aisle by one of the groomsmen. Kit knew the guy. He was one of Brian’s college friends who she’d come to know when she had been dating him. Brian’s mom wore a lacy pearl-gray gown with a cowl neckline. She looked happy and proud, regal even.

  “She looks lovely.” Mom leaned over Hop’s lap and whispered to her as Brian’s mom passed their pew. “But the dye on her shoes is too dark.”

  “Mom,” she said.

  “I have an eye for color, that’s all.”

  The comment made Hop chuckle.

  The rest of the bridal party paraded in, and then everyone stood. The bride appeared, and a gasp sounded in unison in the room. She slowly navigated the aisle on the arm of Paul, their steps in precision. Co-Co beamed. Everything Kit had ever thought of her cousin had stilled in this moment, frozen in time for some other day. Gram’s dress shone like gossamer wings under the candlelight, and a sense of pride warmed Kit in the center of her chest. The bride cast an appreciative glance to Kit as she passed by their pew.