by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel
“I don’t know. And I realize that’s ridiculous, like I don’t even know myself.”
“Well, if you knew yourself, you’d have it all together, and we’ve already concluded that you don’t.”
“Thank you for sparing my feelings.” She slapped his chest.
“On the chance that what your life is missing is honesty,” he speculated with a grin, “I’m trying to help out.”
She straightened, something suddenly clear to her.
“That really is part of it,” she said, leaning on his arm, but looking into his eyes rather than laying her head on his shoulder. She missed that intimacy but wanted to say this to him directly. “When I first started having this sense of being out of sync, I thought a lot about what I do and how it’s all superficial and artificial…” She added seriously, “Though, of course, it serves a purpose and I’m not condemning it, just admitting what’s true.” She drilled him with a look. “As someone who so values reality, you should understand what I’m saying.”
“I do. And maybe you’re right.”
“But…to you, reality is hard work and no fun. To me, it’s…” She sighed and dropped her head to his shoulder, exhausted. “I don’t know what it is, so how will I ever know when I have it, or find it, or walk right by it? No, don’t answer that. I’ll figure it out for myself.” She could hear herself beginning to slur just a little from sleepiness. “Have you noticed that it hasn’t thundered in about ten minutes? You think the storm is over?”
As though in answer to her question, thunder boomed in the distance.
“It’s still here, but moving away. Why don’t you try to sleep?”
She snuggled into him, found a spot for her nose right against his throat, and put an arm around his waist to anchor herself.
He closed his eyes and knew he wouldn’t sleep a wink.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I JUST WANT to look at your suit and see if you need me to take it to the dry cleaner’s for you. You can have it back in two days if you pay extra.” Grady’s mother was wandering around his kitchen, apparently conducting some kind of personal inspection.
“It’s fine, Mom,” he said. “We’re renting suits.”
“But you should look nice for the bachelor dinner.”
“I’ll look great, I promise.” So that she would stop pacing, he asked, “What are you wearing to the wedding?”
Finding nothing to complain about, she dropped her purse on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, blinking at him in surprise. “I’ve never known you to have an interest in fashion.”
He downed the last of the dulce de leche coffee Cassie had poured for him before she’d left with the Palmer women and put his cup in the sink. “Can’t help myself. Cassie’s a model, Corie’s a designer, there’s enough wedding stuff going on around here to make a man run for the hills. I can’t help but absorb some of it.”
“I may not even go to the wedding,” she said, picking up her purse, sitting and holding it on her lap as though it were a toddler.
He poured her a cup of coffee, thinking there was something else going on besides talk about clothes. She was avoiding his eyes, looking a little uncomfortable, and that was very unusual for the woman who prided herself on being forthright and always speaking her mind. He placed the coffee in front of her and took the seat beside her. “What’s going on, Mom?”
She tried to look innocent. “What do you mean?”
“I think you’re here to talk about something besides wedding clothes. And why don’t you want to go to the wedding when Ben’s mom specifically invited you?”
“How do you know that?”
“She told me. She said she thought you were lovely—her words—and they’d be so happy if you would join us.”
She did that evasive thing with her eyes. “I’m not sure they’re my…type. Or that I’m theirs.”
He rolled his eyes. “Mom. There are no types. You like people or you don’t. If you do, it’s a shame to pass up getting to know them better.”
“They seem so…sort of…stylish,” she said, as though that defining word had a bad connotation. “A model, a designer and Helen used to be an editor. I have nothing in common with them. They live in a world we don’t usually ever see.”
“True. Not a lot of models and editors in our lives. But that doesn’t mean you won’t like them when you get to know them. And the fact that they invited you into their lives by asking you to the wedding means they’d like to know you better.”
“Yeah…well…” She tried to brush it off. “I’m just a former teacher who became a housewife who stayed home for ten years to take care of a husband who was too busy trying to stay alive to notice how hard I worked for him and…” Her lips tightened. She kept emotion bottled up, closed off. One day she was going to blow like shaken champagne.
“How much you loved him?” Grady guessed. “I know. Dad was a pretty simple man, who considered everything outside his experience something not worth caring about. And, when he became ill, and you were healthy, even though you lived your life in the interest of his, he sort of lost track of even you.”
“Your father was a good man,” she said defensively, one tear slipping down her cheek. She wiped it away as though it offended her.
“I know that.” He put a hand over hers on the table. “I can be honest about him without loving him any less. He was a good father, but pretty rigid in what he thought. Not everything you know about is good, and not everything you’ve never seen or heard of is bad. You’ll love these people. You have to give them a chance.”
“I don’t know. I don’t have anything to wear to a wedding. And I hate shopping. I’m all…square and lumpy.” She swept a hand down her sturdy torso.
He had to laugh at that. “That’s ridiculous. You always look nice. Let Cassie take you shopping. She can make something out of nothing.”
At her offended look he quickly amended, “She can help you find something that will make you look spectacular. I’m going to call her. She and her family are shopping right now.”
“No! Grady…”
He stood and dialed Cassie on his cell phone. “Hey, Cassie. My mom’s here and needs something to wear for the wedding. Are you still at Bay Boutique?”
“We are.”
“If Mom meets you there, can you help her find the right thing?”
“I’d love to,” she said, sounding pleased that he’d called. He was surprised by how pleased that made him feel in return. In the background, he could hear the other women’s laughter. “If she doesn’t see us when she walks in, it’s because we’re running in and out of the dressing rooms. Tell her to just follow the noise.”
“Right.” He smiled to himself. Considering how worried she’d been last night, it was nice to hear her happy. “She’s on her way.”
His mother’s face was purple with exasperation as he turned off his phone. “I wish I could still ground you.”
He went around the table to wrap her in a hug. “Just enjoy this, Mom. I know it’s a lot of fuss and feathers, but in another week Cassie will be gone and life will be back to normal. A lot more real than we need it to be.”
She frowned at him as he walked her to her car. “What does that mean?” She stopped at the driver’s-side door to look up at him with a penetrating stare. “You’re falling for her, aren’t you?”
“I like her a lot,” he corrected. “But I’m as steeped in reality as you are. Mostly. Actually, I don’t know anymore. Go buy a dress. I have to get to a meeting at the station.” He opened her door.
“Remember Celeste,” she warned.
“Will you please get in the car?” he said a little more sharply than he’d intended. “I’m not likely to forget her.” But the truth was, he seldom thought about her now. He’d thought he’d never get over the
hurt, but he seemed to have done just that. And that made it all the more mystifying.
“This woman’s even more highfalutin than Celeste was.”
“Mom, if you don’t start the car, I’m going to push you all the way downtown myself.”
“I’m going. But mark my words.”
“’Bye.”
“I love you,” she said before she started the car.
“And yet you love to torture me.”
“Really. And who’s sending whom to buy a dress?”
“Well, we’d both look pretty silly if you were sending me, wouldn’t we?”
Mercifully, she drove off.
* * *
ROSIE STOOD BEFORE the three-way mirror and giggled over the endlessly repeated images of herself. She wore a dark blue, silky, A-line dress patterned in snowflakes. It was simple and feminine, and the line flattered her.
She put both hands to her mouth as Corie, Sarah, Helen and Cassie stood behind her. “I look pretty,” she said in wonder.
“You look beautiful,” Cassie said. She took one of Rosie’s thick braids in her hand and turned to Corie. “Can she wear her hair down for the wedding? We can make her a coronet of flowers.”
Rosie’s eyes grew enormous. “Like a crown?”
“Like a crown. What do you think, Corie?”
Corie wrapped her arms around Rosie from behind. Helen snapped a picture of their reflection. She’d been taking photos all morning. “I promised Teresa we’d send her pictures since she can’t be here,” she’d explained.
“I think you’re going to outshine the bride,” Corie said to the child in the mirror.
“What does that mean?” Rosie asked.
“It means you’re going to be prettier than I am.”
Rosie made a face. “I don’t think so.”
Sarah stood behind them in a straight sheath the precise blue of the restaurant napkin they were trying to match. With her fair features and light brown hair she had a soft look that belied the smart, organized, senior-living administrator inside.
Helen had found a knit skirt and top a shade darker than the Caribbean blue with a wide sprinkle of rhinestones around the neckline. She looked magnificent, even though still in her white tennis shoes.
Cassie’s dress had a close-fitting velvet top with long sleeves in a shade of blue somewhere between Sarah’s and Helen’s, and a flared organza skirt that skimmed her knees. Before she’d begun modeling, she’d always chosen full skirts because they made her look shorter. Now that she appreciated what height could do for a woman’s body, she wore whatever she liked. Still, she loved this dress and prayed that the shoes she’d ordered, along with the tennis shoes she could be comfortable in, arrived in time.
“Come on.” Helen encouraged everyone to close in for another photo through the mirror. “Let’s show Teresa and maybe the guys how gorgeous we are.” They all closed in, Corie put her hands on Rosie’s shoulders and they tightened ranks around her, Helen leaving a hand free to take the photo.
Then they turned away from the mirror and crowded in for a selfie. Their laughter vibrated the small room.
“Cassie?”
“Oh, it’s Diane!” Helen said, parting the curtains and reaching out to pull Grady’s mother inside.
Everyone greeted her warmly and she smiled in return, looking a little embarrassed. “I…I have nothing to wear,” she said. “To a wedding, I mean.” She laughed nervously. “And I have this awkward body.”
“There’s a dress or a suit to make every woman look beautiful. Let’s go find something,” Cassie said. Aware of Diane’s discomfort, she suggested everyone else make their purchases and take a coffee break while she helped Diane shop. “We’ll meet you there.”
Cassie’s family disappeared to a doughnut shop across the street and she led Diane out to the dresses. “What are you most comfortable in?” Cassie asked.
Diane indicated what she wore. “Pants and sweaters. I so seldom have to dress up.” She put a hand to her midsection. “I need something that’ll hide bulges. And if it’ll make me look like a size ten, so much the better.”
“We’ll see what we can do. What’s your favorite color?”
“I like pink or purple.” She winced. “In an 18W.”
“Don’t wince,” Cassie scolded her gently. “Curves are in. You were married a long time. Your husband must have loved them.”
Cassie saw immediately that was not something Diane wanted to talk about, so she began to look through the dresses. Nothing seemed quite right, and the only pink one was sleeveless. She moved to another rack.
“Do you ever wear a suit?”
“I wore one to Grady’s graduation from the police academy. But that was forty pounds ago.”
Cassie found a dark rose suit with a straight skirt and a top with a V-neckline and a peplum. She pulled the hanger out of the lineup and held it for Diane to inspect. “Do you like this? V-necks are always slenderizing and flattering to your face, and a peplum takes pounds off.”
“It’s very pretty,” Diane said, “but shouldn’t it be longer to cover my hips? Won’t that little ruffle thing just accent them?”
“That’s a mistake a lot of women make. It’s really more flattering to go shorter with the jacket.” She drew Diane back toward the dressing room. “You try it on, and I bet you’ll agree.”
Cassie looked through a rack of necklaces while the rustle of clothing came from the dressing room. There was a long few moments of silence, then Diane’s voice said in a sort of stunned quiet, “Cassie?”
“Yes?”
“Come in.”
Cassie parted the curtains and was pleased to see that she’d been so right. Diane looked incredible. The rose was wonderful for her and gave her beautiful skin heightened color while accentuating her startled brown eyes.
Everything was perfect. The V-neck and the peplum did just what she’d promised they would. Diane looked one, maybe two, sizes smaller, and the suit lent her a distinction that fit her well.
Diane put both hands to her mouth just as Rosie had done. Cassie half expected her to say “I look pretty.” When she didn’t, Cassie did it for her. “You look gorgeous, Mrs. Nelson.” She went up behind her to tug on a sleeve to smooth it. “This is a perfect color for you. We’re all going to have our hair done the morning of. Why don’t I add you to the appointment?”
“Okay,” Diane replied, still distracted by her refection. “Grady won’t believe it’s me.”
“Well, this is what you’re capable of. You don’t have to look like this all the time, but isn’t it nice to know you can?”
Diane’s eyes caught Cassie’s in the mirror. “I don’t feel like myself.”
Unsure if that was good or bad, Cassie suggested, “Well, we can keep looking and find something that’ll make you more comfortable.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Diane stepped closer to the mirror then turned to look at the back of the suit. “I mean, I’ve never looked this good. When I was married, my life was all about teaching, and I loved it, but it didn’t require that I look…special. Then my husband became ill, so I spent most of my time at home.” She expelled a breath and stood back, still studying her image. “It’s a little unsettling to discover there’s someone inside you that you didn’t know was there.”
Startled to hear the same thought she’d had about herself last night, Cassie nodded. “I know the feeling. So, what do you think?” Belatedly she looked at the price tag. It was a little “spendy” but not outrageous.
“I think I may wear it every day. I’ll take it.”
Purchases made, Cassie insisted Diane join her and her family for coffee.
They stood together on the corner, waiting for the red light to change to green and talking about finding the right shoes to go
with Diane’s suit. Cassie noticed a young man across the street in a long, dark blue raincoat. He stood near the bakery, watching her. Had he had a camera in his hand, she’d have thought the paparazzi had found her, albeit an unusually elegantly dressed paparazzo. Maybe he just recognized her as a model. Or maybe he knew Diane.
“Do you know that guy in front of the bakery?” Cassie asked Diane as the light changed and they began to cross the street. “He’s staring at us.”
Diane smiled at Cassie, a new ease about her. “I think he’s staring at you, Cassidy.” As they reached the other side of the street, the guy turned and walked away.
Cassidy paused before following Diane into the bakery, watching the man as he continued to walk, now a whole block away. She didn’t care so much if the press knew where she was, except that she didn’t want to subject her family to their ruthless intrusions. And she didn’t want anything to upset Corie and Ben’s wedding.
* * *
“WORKING OUT OF an office sounds better and better,” Grady said as he and Ben watched the ambulance take away an intoxicated woman who’d driven into a thicket of blackberries. She’d been sick and they’d had to wrestle her out of her vehicle. They were both smelling ripe. “And when we’re our own bosses, we won’t show up for meetings and end up covering someone else’s shift.”
“Yeah, we might. But we’re almost off shift now,” Ben said. “I think we’ve both got wedding overload. A nice shot of Glenfiddich sounds really good right now.”
They drove back to the station. Grady toweled off and pulled on sweat bottoms and an old gray hoody that felt wonderful after the freezing Pacific Ocean. He would shower at home.
“Did you have a chance to look at that office space online?” he asked Ben, who was lacing up a pair of brown boots he’d owned forever. “Imagine being right down the hall from the Beggar’s Bay Bistro.”
“I did.” Ben stood, straightened his jeans and pulled on a thick blue sweater. “It looks good to me. I’d like to actually see it in person, but there won’t be time before the wedding. I’ll just trust you on it. If you think it’s the spot, we’ll do it.”