by Ginny Baird
“I’m sorry your stomach’s feeling sour.” Her brow rose with the question. “Were you able to eat any of the dinner Brent brought you?”
“Oh, yes. I did, actually. It was so, so good.” She took a sip of soda. “Thanks.”
Elsa drank from her milk as Hope nibbled on a cracker. “I know this family can be a bit overwhelming,” Elsa said. “When I first met Chad and Margaret, I was just like you. A great big ball of nerves.”
“I’m not exactly—”
“Jackie.” Elsa’s dark eyes glimmered. “It’s o-kay to feel anxious about your wedding day. After all, it’s a big deal.”
“Yes, yes it is.”
“But it will be just like it was with me and Parker.” She sighed. “Love will see you through.”
Hope choked on a sip of her drink and started coughing.
Elsa patted her back. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Mmm-hmm.” Hope took another quick swallow of her drink, and the bubbles burned all the way down. “I was just thinking about how lucky Brent is to have parents like the two of you.”
“You’re lucky, too, I hear. Brent’s told me a little about your mom, and she sounds great. So creative. She’s a performer?”
“Um, sort of? As a hobby, I mean. Just don’t get her started.”
Elsa laughed in understanding. “Hobbies are good. We all should have more of them.”
“Yeah.”
“What are yours?” Elsa asked earnestly.
Hope figured it didn’t hurt to share this much. “Well, I really love to read.”
“Me, too.” Elsa smiled. “Which genres?”
“Romance, truthfully?” she admitted.
“I love romance. All kinds. You probably saw some of my collection in the library.”
“I did,” Hope said, loving that she had this in common with Brent’s mom. “We have lots of the same books.”
Elsa’s eyes held a devilish gleam. “Grandmother Margaret reads them, too.”
“Nooo…” Hope laughed.
Elsa giggled in reply. “So does Grandpa Chad.”
“Ha. That’s amazing.”
“I know.” Elsa nodded like they were friends, and Hope was appreciating this conversation so much. “They really are a pair.”
“It’s great when the right people find each other,” Hope said, speaking from the heart but not thinking.
“Like me and Parker,” Elsa shared. “And you and Brent.”
In some ways, Hope found herself wishing it was her and Brent. His mom was so special. It was impossible not to like her and to want to have Elsa like her back.
“I can’t wait to meet your family,” she said. “Brent says that Hope’s a schoolteacher. Such a worthy job.” She studied Hope in the dim light. “Are you sisters close?”
“We’re not as close as we used to be.” Hope found it spilling out of her against her better judgment. Elsa was just the sort of person you wanted to share things with. She was probably dangerous to sit next to on a plane. “We were, though, as kids, yeah. Pretty inseparable.”
Elsa’s face registered understanding. “Relationships go through cycles like that—even our most precious ones.”
The woman’s compassionate nature made Hope wonder about what her home life had been like growing up. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“I was one of three girls,” she answered. “The youngest.”
“Are you all close?”
“We are.” Elsa smiled. “Denise and Molly will be here on Saturday with their husbands, so you’ll get a chance to meet them then. A few of Brent’s cousins, too.”
“It’s nice having a family-only wedding.”
“It’s your and Brent’s day. It’s important for you to have the kind of wedding you want. Small and intimate.”
“What was your wedding like?” Hope asked.
Her voice took on a wistful note. “Really beautiful. Parker and I were married in a cathedral. Washington Cathedral.”
“Nice.”
“My father was still working as a diplomat back then with lots of Washington connections. Parker and I were right out of college, and our group attended, too. But most of the five hundred guests were honestly our parents’ friends.”
“I’ve never been to such a big”—Hope stopped herself, remembering she was Jackie, who coordinated large wedding parties all the time—“gathering for any of my personal friends,” she corrected. “I mean, I’ve been hired to help run the big ones. But that’s different.”
“That’s right,” Elsa said as if remembering. “Your cousin Debbie was married last year.”
“In October, yeah.”
“How large was her wedding?”
“Definitely larger than mine, but not nearly as big as yours. I’d say around a hundred and fifty people.”
“William and Sofia’s wedding was that size and held right here in Blue Hill.”
“This is getting to be quite the wedding location.”
“It’s the perfect spot for tying the knot, especially with someone you love.”
Hope’s grin tightened.
“We had such a great time at William’s wedding,” Elsa continued, “that Margaret said she wished all of her grandchildren could be married here. Parker and I were so happy to hear that you and Brent decided that was the right idea. Chad and Margaret were thrilled, too.”
Elsa paused before continuing. “I don’t want you to worry about Margaret. Once she understands how much Brent loves you, she’ll love you, too.”
“And in the meantime?”
“Don’t let her push you around.” Elsa leaned toward her with a confidential look. “Margaret respects others who hold their own.”
Hope wondered how she was supposed to do that without becoming rude to the older woman. She supposed she’d have to use diplomatic skills. That must be Elsa’s trick. She’d come from diplomatic parents, after all. “Thanks for the tip.”
They both stood, sensing it was bedtime.
“And thanks for the ginger ale and crackers,” Hope said when Elsa took her dish and glass. “They really helped.” She smiled at the other woman. “Our talk did, too.”
Elsa set their glasses and the plate in the sink, then wrapped her arms around Hope. “You’re going to be my daughter soon. I hope we can be friends.”
Moisture burned in Hope’s eyes as she returned Elsa’s hug. While she had a solid relationship with her mom, Ava had never exactly been motherly. Elsa was so genuinely warm, it made Hope want to melt into her.
She could sense what a good mom Elsa must be to her children. The cool thing was, she seemed open to welcoming one more.
“I’d like that,” Hope said with a sniff.
Elsa patted her back. “So would I.”
After their embrace, Hope started to turn, and Elsa picked up a pink-and-white box that had been sitting on the counter. It looked like a pastry box, and its swirly emblem said “Sugar Sweets.”
“Late-night snack?” Hope asked her, joking.
“No.” Elsa laughed, and then she lowered her voice. “I’m just getting things ready for tomorrow.” Her eyes darted to a lined bread basket that rested by the stove. There was an empty cooling rack beside it. When Hope didn’t understand, Elsa stepped toward her and popped open the lid on the box. “My world-famous blueberry muffins,” she whispered. “But, shhh… This is our little secret.”
Hope giggled at Elsa’s revelation. “But the blueberries?”
“Oh, I pick them all right,” she confided. “I’m just not much of a cook. So, most of what I gather we use on cereal and such. None of the others really pay much attention to volume.”
She nodded to a mason jar of dark-colored jam by the cooling rack. “That came from Sugar Sweets, too.”
Hope grinned, liking Elsa m
ore and more. So, Brent’s mom had her sneaky side, hmm.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Elsa told her. “Margaret’s a really wonderful mother-in-law, but in some ways she’s a tough act to follow. She doesn’t bake, though, so somehow early on that became my territory.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately, I don’t make much more than a mess in the kitchen.”
“Oh, Elsa. You and I have a lot in common.” Hope reflected on the goodies in the carriage house. “So, the treats in the carriage house?”
“Also from Sugar Sweets.”
“I thought Brent said they came from his grandmother?”
“Oh, yes. She asked me to produce them. So, produce them I did.”
Hope chuckled, and Elsa began placing blueberry muffins on the cooling rack, so in the morning it would look like they’d been resting there after coming out of the oven.
“And, in all these years, Grandmother Margaret’s never guessed?”
Elsa gave her an impish grin. “Please don’t tell her.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
…
Hope hurried toward the carriage house, clutching Brent’s laptop to her chest with one hand while guiding her way with the flashlight in the other.
Everything was going to be okay the moment she emailed Jackie.
What a great and kind thing she was doing for her sister in helpfully paving the wave for her arrival. She’d converted Brent into a loving fiancé. Or one that aspired to be loving, anyway. Plus, she’d made friends with his mom. Still, Jackie couldn’t get here soon enough.
She entered the carriage house and strode to the farm table in the kitchen.
Then she set down the laptop and pulled out a chair.
An instant later, she stared at a darkened screen.
The battery on Brent’s laptop was completely dead.
Chapter Six
Brent woke up feeling energized. There was nothing he loved better than having a clear objective. Marriage of convenience or not, he didn’t need to wait for love to find them. He could go out there and make it happen. The way Jackie now fell into his gaze gave him fresh hope.
She’d never looked at him like that before. Like he could be her “somebody special.” Not because they were pretending, but because they didn’t have to. That’s what he wanted with her—a real relationship, in which they both understood each other because they shared things together and knew each other’s hopes and dreams.
He arranged a single pink rose in the small bud vase on the breakfast tray he’d fixed for her and decided to take out to the carriage house. He’d served her things he knew she would eat, like a hardboiled egg, some yogurt, and a slice of melon. Even though she normally didn’t eat carbs, he’d also included a dry piece of wheat toast, just in case she was still feeling off and needed it to settle her stomach.
He wished she could try some of his mom’s incredible blueberry muffins, but he wanted to respect her dietary choices. He lifted the tray off the counter as his mom breezed in from the front hall.
“There you are.” She noticed his tray. “Taking something to Jackie?”
“Yeah, I thought I’d check on her.”
“I hope she’s feeling better.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Grandpa Chad appeared in the kitchen next, straightening his vest by tugging at its bottom flaps. Brent had noticed his grandpa’s clothing becoming a little snugger lately, but he supposed that came with his grandmother’s cooking.
“You got a phone call early this morning,” Chad said, addressing Brent. “Or, rather, your fiancée did. Her sister, Hope, called to say she’s coming late.”
“Late?” Elsa asked. “Oh no. Again?”
“Said something about not being able to reach Jackie’s cell phone and it ringing straight through to voicemail.”
Brent instantly regretted locking her phone away. “Ah, yeah. Right.”
“Is something wrong with her phone?” Elsa asked Brent.
“We just made a little pact,” Brent said, “to put technology on hold.”
“Oh, how sweet.”
“But impractical, it seems,” Chad informed them. “Hope was a bit frantic about not being able to reach her sister.”
“Of course.” Brent nodded at his grandpa, then started toward the hall. “I’ll have Jackie give her a call.”
“Did Hope say what’s wrong?” Elsa asked with concern.
“Just that her flu bug’s holding on,” Chad answered. “She was hoping it was a twenty-four-hour ordeal, but now she’s worried she should give things a little longer. Considerate of her, really. Not wanting to infect the rest of—” He stopped short as Jackie barreled in the front door, nearly slamming into Brent.
Brent gripped the breakfast tray tighter and stabilized its teetering coffee carafe.
Jackie stared up at him, looking all fresh-faced and completely healthy. Only, what was she holding?
Hang on—is that my laptop?
“Brent. Oh, hi.” She nodded at Grandpa Chad, then peeked around him and into the kitchen. “Morning, Elsa.”
“Good morning,” Elsa said. “Feeling better?”
“Yes, much. Thanks.” Jackie’s gaze swept the tray in Brent’s hands. “What’s this?”
“I was just bringing you breakfast. In case you still weren’t feeling well.”
“That’s so nice of you.” She closed the door behind her and smiled at the others. “But I’m happy to eat in the dining room with everyone else.”
She peered up at him through her dark lashes, and Brent’s heart thumped. Her new haircut really did suit her, and her form-fitting sundress showed off her curvy figure. Which was a bit curvier than he remembered, but that wasn’t a bad thing by any stretch.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, holding up his laptop. “I borrowed this last night because I remembered something I need to tell Rachel…”
She continued with some details about the Martin wedding, but Brent found himself swimming in her pretty brown eyes.
She swapped out his computer for her breakfast tray, then went on to explain. “The only thing is your battery’s—”
“Dead. Yeah, I know.” He shook off the temporary spell she’d cast over him. “I left the charger in my hotel room in Manhattan, but I’ve already ordered another one.”
“Hope called,” Grandpa Chad said. “She’s apparently still not one hundred percent and will be one more day.”
Jackie blanched. “What? Oh, no. You mean she can’t make it till Wednesday?”
“Such a shame for her to miss the tea party and croquet,” Elsa mused.
“You should probably give her a call,” Brent said. “Let me go grab your phone—”
“Good idea,” Elsa said. “You can call from in here. We all want to know how she’s doing.”
Jackie’s dark eyes widened. “Uh, actually? The call can probably wait until after breakfast.”
“Are you sure?” Grandpa Chad asked her.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine.
“Here, let me take that,” Elsa said, relieving her of the breakfast tray and carrying it into the kitchen. “We’ll set you up with a place at the table.”
…
“Morning, everyone,” Hope said, taking the seat where Elsa deposited her food.
Fortunately, there were heartier-looking treats on the table, like those luscious-looking muffins she’d seen last night, an elegant fruit and cheese platter, and a serving dish of fried bacon and sausage links, which rested by Parker’s elbow.
A couple of covered casseroles sat on the sideboard, and Hope guessed from what was on Grandmother Margaret’s plate that those contained hash browns and some kind of heavenly-looking egg and cheese casserole.
“We normally don’t eat this heavy first thing in the day,” Grandpa Chad explained, “but
it’s going to be busy with so many people coming in, so Margaret wanted us to keep our strength up.”
“Elsa makes all the baked goods,” Margaret announced.
Elsa pursed her lips, avoiding Hope’s eyes. Was that a smile the older woman was trying to hold back?
“She does a great job of it, too,” Parker said proudly.
“Stays up late sometimes to do it,” Grandpa Chad added.
“Yeah.” Brent laughed. “She claims she’s a midnight baker. Right, Mom?”
He glanced at Elsa, who just said, “Um-hmm.”
Hope wanted to laugh but held it back for Elsa’s sake. It was fun sharing a secret with Brent’s mom. And it honestly didn’t matter to her what was homemade or store-bought. She was starved, and everything looked—and smelled—delicious. She expectantly glanced around, trying to figure out what the procedure was, but the serving style appeared pretty casual here.
Brent took his empty plate to the sideboard, and Hope got up to join him.
“Should I just help my…self?” She slunk back into her chair, when all eyes turned on her.
“You’re eating cheese now?” Brent asked with a grin, and Hope held her breath. Darn Jackie and her spartan low-fat life. No wonder she was a whole dress size smaller. She dieted and exercised, neither of which sounded like tons of fun.
“The eggs are loaded with cheddar, I’m afraid,” Elsa said apologetically.
Margaret waved them all off. “She’s got her hard-boiled egg.”
“I, uh… Yeah. It’s just that…” Hope stared down at her paltry breakfast, then over at Brent as he heaped browned diced potatoes and onions on his plate. “Those potatoes smell wonderful.”
“What?” Brent asked in joking tones. “You’re eating hash browns now, too?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Parker said. “Let the girl eat what she wants.”
Elsa leaned toward her with a whisper. “You might want to watch the potatoes, though. Grease on top of yesterday’s queasies…” Her forehead rose. “May be a bad mix.”
“Oh. Oh, right.” Hope wished she’d concocted some other imaginary ailment than a migraine involving nausea. But it was tough getting out of that now.