by Grace Palmer
She opened her mouth to answer Stella, but her emotions overwhelmed her, and she began to cry. Truly and earnestly.
“Oh, honey.” Stella wrapped an arm around Liza’s shoulders and led her away from the car. “We’ll fix this. Don’t worry.”
Stella took Liza inside, and Georgia was standing at the island, one of the mini beef Wellingtons in her hand. She dropped it on the tray as soon as they walked in, looking guilty. “I was just looking.”
“We don’t have time for your lies, Georgia. Liza is in crisis.”
Georgia shifted into full-on caregiver mode in an instant. Her expression softened, and she rounded the island and grabbed Liza’s elbow, turning her so they were face-to-face. “What’s going on, dear?”
Liza had regained control of her tears, at least, and relayed her tale of the ruined dress and spilled stock.
“I have cartons of chicken stock in the pantry,” Georgia said, gesturing for Stella to go and grab them. “They aren’t going to be nearly as good as yours, I’m sure, but to be honest, none of the plebeians at this wedding will know the difference.”
Liza almost laughed, despite everything. “I don’t think they’d appreciate being called that.”
“Well, you didn’t serve them breakfast this morning,” Georgia whispered. “The bride’s family complimented the cappuccinos I made them from instant powder mix. The groom’s family didn’t touch the stuff, but then again, Italians know a thing or two about coffee. None of them are going to know you used a boxed stock for your soup, I promise.”
Stella set three boxes of stock on the counter and waved her hands in the air like she was a model on a game show revealing a prize.
“And I can help with the dress,” Stella said. “You and I look to be around the same size. I’ll run to my house, grab you a few options, and be back in a jiffy.”
“My shoes were back there too,” Liza said, wiping her sleeve across her nose, feeling like a toddler. “I only brought the one pair of heels, and my feet are bigger than most women’s. It’s hard for me to find shoes.”
Georgia and Stella looked at each other and, at the same time, said, “Alma.”
“Everything is bigger in Texas, including Alma’s shoe size,” Georgia laughed. “She wears a ten. Will that work for you?”
Liza was a nine and a half, but she’d take what she could get right now. Even if it meant wearing cowboy boots with a borrowed dress.
“Yeah, I think that will work.”
Georgia spun around and grabbed a paper towel and then handed it to Liza, giving her a kind smile. “Blow your nose, wash your hands, and make some soup. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Liza had never wanted to hug a person more in her life. But, in her snotty, tear-stained state, she figured Georgia wouldn’t appreciate it. So, she nodded, followed Georgia’s directions, and got back to work.
By the time the soup was simmering on the stove, Liza felt embarrassed for her freak-out. She’d been doing this job for years, and she’d never had a meltdown like that before. Usually, she was the pinnacle of calm, cool, and collected. This was so unlike her.
Just as Liza was undoing her apron, Stella walked into the kitchen. “Perfect timing. Are you ready to see your options?”
Liza followed Stella down a hallway and into a small office. Georgia was inside with a steamer, getting rid of the wrinkles on three dresses hanging from the accordion-style doors of a closet.
“All of the rooms upstairs are full, and Stacy is in the sunroom with her bridesmaids, so you get the office,” Georgia said, standing back. “What do you think?”
All three of the dresses were beautiful—long gowns in jewel tones—but Liza’s eyes caught on the maroon number hanging on the end. It was a maroon wrap dress with flowing sleeves and a high slit up the side. It was modest, yet sexy, and Liza couldn’t help but reach out and touch it.
“That one is my favorite too,” Stella said, beaming. “Georgia’s daughters actually helped me pick it out. If Tasha wasn’t busy prepping to sing at the wedding, I would have called her to help you get ready. She’s so much better at it than me.”
“Nonsense,” Liza said, pulling the dress down from the hanger. “You’re wonderful at this. I love this dress so much more than the one I was planning to wear.”
Georgia bent down and lifted a pair of nude strappy heels. “Oh, and these are from Alma. She said you can keep them if you want. She’s intimidating enough without adding another four inches of height.”
Once again, Liza felt tears burning at the backs of her eyelids. But this time, it wasn’t out of stress or feeling overwhelmed. It was gratitude.
These people barely knew her, but they had jumped into action at the first sign of trouble, and Liza didn’t know if she could ever thank them for that.
“No more tears,” Stella said with a stern finger.
“Yeah, Melanie will be here in five minutes to do your makeup, and we don’t want puffy eyes.” Georgia patted Liza on the back, and then she and Stella left the room so Liza could change.
As soon as Liza put on the dress, she knew what was different about today compared to other weddings. It hit her all at once, and it was so obvious she almost laughed.
Ben.
Ben was different.
Liza was catering his sister’s wedding, and she was wearing a dress that he would see her in.
She wanted to impress him, even though he’d never once made her feel like she needed to earn his approval. Liza wanted to wow him and his family with her food, and she wanted to wow him with her appearance, and the momentary thought that all of that was lost had broken her heart.
Seeing herself in this maroon wrap dress, however, mended it back together.
Liza looked awesome.
There was a knock at the door, and then Melanie walked in and whistled. “You look stunning.”
Speaking of stunning, Melanie looked gorgeous. She had on a pair of dark gray high-waisted trousers with cropped ankles, a billowy green blouse, and gold high heels with straps around her ankles. The outfit, paired with her peaches and cream complexion and her strawberry-blonde hair falling in beach waves around her face, made her look like a model fresh from the pages of a fashion magazine.
“Me? Look at you. You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said. “This is the first formal event I get to attend with Colin, so I wanted to make the most of it. I assume that’s why I’m here to help you, as well? Mom told me you’ve been spending a lot of time with a certain guest at the inn.”
Liza flushed. “Perhaps.”
Melanie laid her makeup bag open on the desk and winked. “Good for you. He’s a babe.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Liza smiled.
“Yes, but you are no slouch yourself, Liza.” Melanie pulled out a powder brush as large as her face and turned to Liza. “Ben is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
Liza loved weddings.
Over the years, she’d met people who worked in the industry and hated them. They would complain about the bride being overbearing and the families being ungrateful. They’d moan about all of the limits being placed on their creativity and talent.
And sure, some of that was true. Liza had dealt with brides who thought they knew best despite what Liza said. She’d worked with families who wanted a discount because the dinner wasn’t piping hot after an hour-long delay when the groom got cold feet.
However, on the whole, Liza was at a wedding to make the bride and groom’s dreams come true. Food wasn’t the most important part of the day, Liza knew, but it played a role, and Liza was honored every time a bride chose to eat Liza’s food on her wedding day.
More than that, though, weddings were beautiful.
Liza loved seeing the way Jonathan shifted nervously on the altar as the bridal party walked down the aisle. (She also loved seeing Ben walk down the aisle, his shoe glued together, and his hair gelled down into handsome, picture-perfect obedience.) Then, Stacy walked in.<
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The audience rose, Jonathan’s fidgeting stopped, and it was as though nothing else in the whole world mattered except for the two of them.
Which, in that moment, was true.
Liza always felt like time stopped during a wedding, like everything that was good about the world and life and humanity came together to create a perfect moment in time.
Unfortunately, being the caterer meant Liza didn’t often get to sit in on the ceremonies. When she did, she sat in the back and then ducked out before the vows, as she did for Stacy and Jonathan’s wedding. Then, while the bridal party and families were busy being photographed, Liza got to work.
She donned an apron over Stella’s wrap dress, heated everything through and filled chafing dishes, and double-checked the place settings. The time between the ceremony and the reception was a mad dash of last-minute fixes and prep, but it was always worth it when guests arrived and began to eat.
Liza was so busy ladling out soup into bowls and making sure the chafing dishes were refilled that she didn’t even see when Ben went through the food line, but from what little she overheard from the guests closest to the kitchen, her food was a hit.
After service, while the bride and groom were cutting the cake, Liza made herself a plate and sat down in the kitchen to eat. Her legs were so tired she actually sighed with relief.
Kate, from Good Stuff Cupcakes, joined her.
“These mini beef Wellingtons are amazing,” she said. “I love eating small versions of big foods. Which, now that I think about it, is probably why I love making cupcakes.”
“Did you just make that connection?”
“Believe it or not, I did,” Katie laughed. She leaned forward and peeked through the partially opened kitchen door. “People are lining up to eat cake. It looks like our jobs are done for the day. Are you going to stick around?”
“Yeah, I’m kind of…” Liza paused, unsure how to explain. “I’m here with the brother of the bride.”
Katie snapped her attention to Liza, eyes wide. “Ben? Girl, good for you. I met him this morning when I dropped off the cake, and he is a dreamboat. And so nice.”
Liza blushed, but before she could formulate a response, the man himself walked into the kitchen. “Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting, but I wondered if you were—”
Ben’s eyes fell on Liza and went wide. He stopped speaking for a moment, and Liza was conscious of the fact that she was sitting on a counter with a plate of food in her lap and a napkin tucked into the collar of her dress.
Quickly, she set aside her plate, pulled the napkin from around her neck, and stood up.
Ben’s eyes went even wider as he looked Liza up and down.
“Did you lose your train of thought?” Katie asked, stifling a laugh.
Ben swallowed. “The dancing is about to start, and I wondered if you’d be done in here in time to dance with me.”
“She’s done,” Katie said, nudging the back of Liza’s leg.
Liza looked at the mountain of dishes in the sink. “Are you sure? I can help with—”
“Nothing,” Katie finished. “I was invited to the wedding as a courtesy. I don’t know anyone. I’d be happy to wash some dishes while you enjoy yourself. Go, go.”
Liza thanked Katie and then followed Ben out into the main reception hall.
Coming out from behind the food line, Liza really took in the splendor of the place for the first time.
The reception hall was a renovated barn not far from Georgia’s inn, which was why all of the wedding party got ready there. String lights hung from the rafters, giving the room a magical glow, and the flowers and candles and flowing tablecloths set the mood. It was an understated, gorgeous wedding.
“Everything looks so beautiful,” Liza said.
Suddenly, Ben grabbed her hand and pulled her into him smoothly. He wrapped a hand around her lower back and began to sway along with the music. “The decorations are fine. You, however, are gorgeous.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself.” Liza smoothed a hand down his lapel. “You’re very fashionable.”
“Are you surprised?”
Liza thought about it for a moment. “Honestly? Kind of. You were always handsome, but when I knew you, you wore pleated jeans and neon windbreakers.”
“Hey! Don’t blame me for the nineties. I was fashionable then, and I’m fashionable now.” Ben spun Liza out and twirled her in a circle before pulling her close again. “But you’ve always been timeless. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Liza’s heart swelled in her chest. She felt like she was floating, and it wasn’t just because Ben was such a good dancer. With the romantic music, the dim lights, and the warmth in the air, it felt like the perfect moment. As hesitant as Liza was to admit it, it felt like fate.
Yet, a small voice in the back of her mind brought her back down to reality.
Liza loved weddings, but she was also aware that it was easy to get swept up in the romance and the grandeur. It was easy to forget that, like Cinderella, the clock would strike midnight and the magic would fade.
How much of what Ben was saying was because he was lost in the moment? How much of it was because he’d just sat through an hour-long ceremony where his sister pledged her love to another? Liza didn’t want to hand over yet another piece of her heart only for it to be shattered because Ben wasn’t as serious about her as she thought.
After all, Liza had heard compliments from Ben before.
Liza had told herself all week that she’d wait until after the wedding to have any sort of serious conversation with Ben, but dancing with him felt so good, and she was becoming more and more convinced with every second that fate had brought them back together, so she had to ask him now.
The walls she’d built around her heart were tumbling down, and if she didn’t ask now, she’d be at serious risk of being heartbroken all over again.
Ben tucked a lock of Liza’s hair behind her ear and frowned. “You have your serious face on. What is it?”
Liza looked into his green eyes as she gathered the courage to ask the question she’d been too afraid to voice for thirty years.
“Why did you leave me?”
17
Thirty Years Earlier
Liza waited for Ben to show up at the bar and grill after his shift ended at the bakery, but an hour passed, and he still hadn’t showed.
It wasn’t entirely unusual. Some days, he was too busy to come in and sit with her while she closed, but he usually told her about it beforehand. Plus, even if he couldn’t make it the entire time, he almost always showed up to walk her across the dark parking lot to her car.
As Liza worked, she worried about him. Was he hurt? Sick? Had there been a family emergency?
She told herself she was probably overreacting. And when Ben showed up twenty minutes before closing time, she felt ridiculous.
“What a relief,” Dora said, bumping Liza with her hip as she passed. “I was certain you were right, and he’d fallen into a coal mine.”
Liza laughed. “Shut up.”
All the girls at work told Liza she was spoiled, and now she knew they were right. Dora’s last boyfriend had disappeared for an entire weekend one time with no explanation. Yet, Liza freaked out when Ben didn’t show up to sit with her at work.
“Can I get you anything, sir?” Liza crooned, leaning over his shoulder to kiss him on the cheek.
He gave her a small smile and shook his head. “I’m fine.”
The uneasy feeling she’d had earlier came back, but in a much smaller capacity. “You were late. I was worried you’d been kidnapped for a second.”
“I got busy.”
He kept his eyes on the table or trained on the television above the bar, and Liza felt the urge to grab his chin and turn his face to her. To force him to look at her.
“Sure, I get it,” she said. “I’m not mad. I was just saying.”
“Looks like someone wants their check.” He tipped his he
ad towards a table by the door where a man was waving his finger in the air. The guest had been waving Liza down for the last hour, requesting condiments the bar didn’t have and asking her for refills when his glass was still half-full.
Liza wanted to ask Ben what was wrong, if something had happened, why he seemed so reserved, but she decided it could all wait until the guests were gone.
Usually, when Liza would walk by Ben’s table, he’d whistle or wink or do something to acknowledge her, but he barely even looked at her.
In the last fifteen minutes of her shift, a knot began to form in Liza’s stomach.
Then, the guests left and she and her coworkers began cleaning, and Ben stayed where he was in the corner of the room. He didn’t come up to the bar while she washed glasses or wiped down the counter. He didn’t play music in the jukebox for everyone or entertain her coworkers with jokes.
It felt like staring up at the sky, waiting for the asteroid to appear.
Liza knew something was wrong, she just didn’t know what.
As far as she knew, she and Ben weren’t in a fight. He’d come by her apartment the day before, and he’d seemed fine then. What had changed?
By the time the kitchen crew left and Liza dismissed the rest of the waitresses, letting them know she’d lock up, her chest was tight with anxiety of what was to come.
Even still, she didn’t expect what was going to happen next.
“I’m about to lock up,” she said, waving Ben out of the corner where he’d been hiding. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk. Do you want to go back to my place?”
Ben stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Actually, I have to get going.”
“Well, it was nice of you to wait this long just to walk me to my car. Maybe we can see each other tomorrow?”
Ben held open the door for Liza, and she walked outside into the cold. It had been almost a year since they’d kissed in the snow, and Liza could smell frost in the air.