The limo pulled up to the main doors of the Renaissance Grand. Their ride was over, but the discussion wasn’t. He’d gone too far to back down now. Besides, Nana gave him a peck on the cheek as she exited the vehicle. At least one of the Fleming women wasn’t offended.
Lisa looked at Ryan’s outstretched hand, ready to assist her in exiting the limousine, then pushed past, giving herself a wide berth.
“I think when it comes to wedding gifts, normal people just ask for a blender,” she said before walking through the sliding glass doors without so much as a backward look at her erstwhile fiancé.
Chapter Seven
Lisa studied the pedicure menu as her toes splashed in the warm water in the foot box. Should she go with the cappuccino package or something soothing, like cucumber mint?
Definitely cucumber mint. She was still licking her wounds from last night.
And this pre-wedding spa time presented the last real opportunity for her to talk Nana out of walking down the aisle with Bill.
Maybe, Lisa thought, she needed a Valium pedicure. Cucumber might not be soothing enough to get her in the right frame of mind.
She still couldn’t believe how Ryan turned on her in the limo last night. Yes, she’d agreed to move forward and not spoil Nana and Pops’ happiness for the sake of all involved, but would it have killed the man to have told Nana the wedding rumor wasn’t true?
Why wouldn’t he have just told Nana no? Surely his plan of keeping everyone happy didn’t extend to flat-out lying. Lisa couldn’t go along with that.
“I think I want pineapple mango.” Nana tapped the laminated plastic spa menu with her pointer finger. “What are you going to get, Lisa Marie?”
“I’m leaning toward cucumber mint.”
“Oh, that sounds nice too. But I think I want something tropical,” Nana said. “Should Bill and I go to Hawaii for our honeymoon? I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii.”
It was now or never.
“Nana, can I ask you something?”
Nana smiled, that same gentle look of grace and concern that had provided Lisa reassurance her entire life. Lisa tried to focus on that. And hoped against hope that she wouldn’t wipe the smile off Nana’s face with her words.
“Of course, Lisa Marie. What is it?”
The nail technicians came and sat at the foot of each pedicure chair and started the first part of the pedicure, mixing scented salts into the foot-sizes boxes of warm, bubbling water with the LED lights which alternated purple and blue.
Lisa sucked in a fortifying breath. “Do you really think you should be doing this?”
“I don’t see why not. I don’t think a pedicure will upset my blood pressure medication. Do you?”
“Not the pedicure, Nana. The wedding. Do you think you should be marrying Bill?”
There. She said it.
She wished she felt any kind of relief at getting that question off her chest, but instead. All she felt was cold dread as the seconds ticked by, waiting on Nana’s answer.
“Of course. You don’t?”
The technician clipped Nana’s toenails, then began to scrub at her heels. Lisa’s technician followed suit.
“Well, no. I don’t.”
The scraping motion kept brushing the most ticklish spot at the base of Lisa’s arch. She began to giggle.
“Why are you laughing about it? What’s so funny?”
“Feet, Nana.” Lisa tried clenching her jaw—maybe that would hold the laugh inside as the technician continued to scrub a pumice stone over the tickle zone.
“You don’t like Bill’s feet, Lisa? What an odd reason.”
Nana’s nail technician moved easily to the right foot. Nana hadn’t so much as flinched while the rough skin at the edge of her heel was polished off.
On the other hand, Lisa couldn’t stop laughing. Acting like she was sitting in the front row at a comedy club was not helping the seriousness she needed to convey.
“Bill’s feet are fine,” Lisa spoke quickly as the technician switched to the other foot.
Nana swirled her feet back in the water. “Then what’s the problem with him?”
“It’s not him, Nana. It’s you.”
The look Nana gave Lisa could have started a lightning storm. Full of crackle and crash, her entire being showed that she didn’t like the direction this conversation began to turn.
“My feet are fine, Lisa Marie,” she said sternly. “And if you’re trying to imply that other parts of me are not, then you are welcome to stay in the room this evening.”
Finally, the pumice scrubbing torture ended. But Lisa was far from leaning back in the chair massager and relaxing. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me.” Nana looked first to Lisa with a narrowed gaze. She then turned to the petite woman rubbing lotion on her feet. “Can you just skip everything and just polish my toes?”
The nail technician nodded, clearly keeping herself out of the conversation which kept increasing in heat every minute.
“You don’t want me at your wedding, Nana?”
Nana pushed her shoulders back and sat up as tall as she could. “No.”
Lisa never thought this would have been an easy conversation. She expected it to be difficult. She expected it to be direct.
She never expected Nana to cut her off.
“That’ll do,” Nana said to her nail technician. She swiveled out of the chair, away from Lisa, and slid her feet in a pair of orange disposable flip-flops. “Just charge this to my room, please. I need to leave.”
“Nana, you do not need to leave. Please can we talk about this?” Lisa started to hop out of her chair, then realized she was covered from pinky toe to knee-joint in a bright green crystallized exfoliating rub. If she chased after Nana, she’d just fall flat on her face on the polished granite tile.
Not that it could hurt more than Nana’s rejection.
“There’s nothing to talk about. You didn’t like the idea on Friday when I surprised you with coming out here. But now, even after meeting Bill, you still can only talk about how you think something’s wrong with me. I know something’s different, Lisa. Why do you think I want to enjoy life while I can? I don’t need to go see Dr. Reynolds. I saw him two months ago. You’re right. I’m in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. I don’t have much to look forward to. But I am looking forward to my wedding. And if you can’t be happy for me while I try to live out the good days I still have, then, no, you’re not welcome. I’m sorry, Lisa Marie, but that’s the way it is.”
Nana turned around and padded out of the Grand Florence Spa, a little unsteady. Lisa would normally blame the disposable flip-flops and their ill-fit, but she saw Nana’s shoulders shake as she neared the door, and she knew her grandmother was trying to hold back her tears.
Lisa struggled to hold back her own.
When one slipped out, Lisa didn’t care.
“She’ll still want you there,” the nail technician said quietly over the sounds of the bubbling water and massaging chair.
“I don’t think so. I think this is one memory Alzheimer’s will never take away from her.”
Lisa knew that the day she made her Nana cry was one she’d never forget, either.
And she cursed her inability to have just kept her mouth shut and gone with the flow like Ryan told her to do. For a teacher, Lisa realized, she certainly had a hard time learning lessons.
After the lonely pedicure session ended, Lisa walked around the sprawling campus of the Renaissance Grand. She strolled through the casino, filled with bright lights and bells, as people of all ages and backgrounds staked out their favorite games, pulled levers, and watched dice tumble and waited on a flash of white, red, or black to change their fortune.
Her fortune, it seemed, had been decided. She’d been uninvited from Nana’s wedding, and she’d never felt so low in her life. Not even all the times waiting at the window for a mother who never showed added up to the heartbreak she felt right now.
She’d le
t Nana down.
They used to be two-against-the-world. And now Nana had someone else in her life to laugh with, confide in, and live life with.
Lisa meandered to the main hallway of shops and sat heavily on a velvet-covered bench across from the boutique where Ryan had taken her on her first night in the hotel.
Slumping over, she placed her head in her hands and struggled against the bitter truth. She couldn’t let go of the relationship she and Nana had always had. And in trying to keep her close, Lisa had pushed her away.
What if she’d pushed her away forever?
What if Nana stayed here in Las Vegas, leading her new life, and never came home to Port Provident again?
What if Nana never let Lisa back in her life again?
What if her Alzheimer’s took a dramatic turn and Nana never even had the chance to allow Lisa back into her life?
Because, Lisa realized, the facts were simple. Nana already had a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s. One she’d been hiding, apparently for months. With Alzheimer’s, Lisa knew the outcome of the game before it had even been played.
She would lose Nana.
She would lose the support she’d had her whole life. She’d lose the one person who knew all her memories—her first steps, her first words, her first day of school.
The tears began to flow from the corners of Lisa’s eyes and down her cheeks before she even realized they’d slipped out. Thoughts of her life with Nana, the good times, the bad times, and everything in between, continued to come, gaining speed like a race car on a track. Lisa couldn’t keep up with all the memories, and she couldn’t keep up with all the tears.
As the sobs choked her throat, Lisa felt thankful that her head was buried in her hands and covered by her hair. At least no one could see her.
Not that she cared. They were all relaxing on their Spring Break vacations. She was losing everything that had ever mattered to her.
She’d pushed Ryan away last night after getting caught in the limo last night.
She’d pushed Nana away, by focusing on what she wanted. She’d treated Nana, her greatest teacher in life, like nothing more than a student who needed to be told what to do.
She’d told Ryan she needed to know if she could trust him.
But now, Lisa couldn’t even be trusted by the person who counted on her most.
A light hand laid on Lisa’s right shoulder.
“Cara Mia, are you all right?”
Lisa lifted her head and wiped her eyes. Mariela, the manager of the boutique, sat on the tufted bench next to her.
“No. I’m not. I think I’ve lost everything.” The words squeezed painfully through Lisa’s choked throat, rasping as they clawed their way out.
Mariela patted Lisa’s shoulder gently. “I’ve seen it before. You aren’t the only one, Cara Mia.”
Lisa shook her head. “You don’t understand. It’s not money. I haven’t lost a dime of my money. I’ve lost my Nana.”
“Come with me.” Mariela put her hand under Lisa’s elbow and helped her to her feet. “Let’s get you out of this busy area. You can come with me to the boutique, get yourself back together in private, and we’ll get someone to help with your Nana.”
Lisa shuffled across the wide hallway, leaning heavily on Mariela’s steadying arm. “I don’t think anyone can help.”
They walked through the door of the boutique, and quiet enveloped Lisa—such a contrast from the frantic to-and-fro and babble of voices in the hallway.
“There’s a chair by the dressing room if you need it, or just feel free to walk around and browse. Whatever makes you the most comfortable, Lisa. I will make some calls.” The gentle Italian lilt that touched Mariela’s words calmed Lisa a little more. Her voice sounded soothing.
“I...I think I’ll just walk around.” Maybe doing something mindless like looking at dresses on the racks would take her mind off the soul-crushing feeling that continued to bore into her heart like a drill bit.
Lisa weaved her way through the racks, generally oblivious of the finery hanging on them. The whirl of thoughts wouldn’t allow her to focus on anything for long.
Finally, in the back corner of the store, she looked up. A beautiful ivory wedding dress with an embroidered lace bodice and an A-line satin skirt hung in a place of honor. Lisa fingered the dress delicately, holding it out slightly so she could see it better. She twisted it slightly on the hanger so she could look at the detail on the back. A line of satin ribbon crisscrossed down the center, laced like a corset.
Her breath caught in her throat. The dress reminded her of a princess in a fairytale.
Then a sob caught in her throat as she remembered that today was Nana’s wedding day—and she would not be there.
“You’d look beautiful in that, you know.”
Lisa jumped at the sound of Ryan’s voice.
“You scared me. What are you doing here?”
Ryan gave a hint of a smile. “Mariela called me. She said she saw you crying out in the main hallway. She was worried about you. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Nana. I’ve lost her.”
“What do you mean, ‘lost her’?” Ryan reached out and placed his hand around Lisa’s forearm.
“We were getting a pedicure this morning and I decided to tell her how I felt. I was running out of time. She got up and left.” Lisa felt her throat begin to clog with tears and memories. “And she told me not to come to the wedding.”
The thick bile of regret choked her and Lisa struggled momentarily to get a breath.
“Where is she now?” Ryan’s words sounded as rough as sandpaper.
Lisa could barely summon a whisper. “I don’t know.”
“We’ll find her, Lisa.”
At the sound of his declaration, Lisa felt a small ray of sunshine in the gray clouds that had chased her this morning. She’d prided herself for so long on her street-smarts: weathering the abandonment of her mother, surviving New York, building a new career for herself as a teacher. But the panic she’d felt this morning revealed all those accomplishments for what they truly were: a master class, the performance of her life.
Literally and figuratively. Her life had been a big performance and her lines had been lies she’d told herself for years to make up for the fact that she didn’t trust anyone except Nana.
And now Nana had cut herself off from Lisa.
Thinking about it again, admitting the frailty of her own situation, stung like a blade skimming lightning-quick across the surface of her skin. It stung. And it bled.
And she knew it would bleed for a long time to come.
Ryan put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. The solid, toned muscle of his bicep pressed against the crest of her shoulder blades and his forearm braced the curve of her joint and he touched the edge of her collarbone with his fingers.
No tourniquet had stopped the loss of heart’s blood any more efficiently than the bracing touch of Ryan McBride.
“Ryan?” Before they left in search of Nana, Lisa urgently needed to make her peace with the other piece of the puzzle that had been troubling her.
“Yes?” He looked down but kept his arm cemented firmly around her shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t brave enough to speak it loudly, but she hoped he could sense her sincerity.
She turned her head at an upward angle and tried to search the expression on his face. All she could see was the same even, polished look he’d kept on his face both times she’d seen him in the main room at the tournament.
His game face.
She needed to make him understand this wasn’t a game any longer to her. She wanted to play for keeps.
“For pushing you away last night. I’ve been nothing but hot and cold to you. And yet you still came when Mariela called.”
“I told you, Lisa. I want you to trust me.”
She could have said she didn’t have any other choice. But that wouldn’t have done justice to how she felt when she’d heard the sound of h
is voice just now, when she knew he’d come, when she knew if he was with her, everything would be all right.
“I do.”
He led her out of the boutique with a quick wave to Mariela as they passed. “Save those words for later, my dear. I promise you’re going to need them.”
Ryan couldn’t pinpoint what exactly prompted him to say that to Lisa, but he couldn’t dwell on it for too long. The first order of business was to get up to the honeymoon suite, find Nana, and get this misunderstanding sorted out between her and Lisa.
Seeing Lisa there in front of that wedding dress, locked on it with the full concentration of her being, made him wish the wedding occurring today would be theirs.
He’d read Lisa the moment he’d met her. She was running scared. Fear chased her like an opponent in a marathon. It dogged her every step. He’d been trained to scrutinize his opponents, to analyze their movements, and to study physical cues. As an actress, Lisa played the role of loving granddaughter and enthusiastic teacher well. But when she let her guard down—which he’d gotten her to do in the private moments they’d spent together—she stepped out of character.
Ryan had seen her for who she was—someone who loved fiercely, dreamed grandly, and fought hard to do what she perceived to be the right thing.
And he loved that fighting, dreaming streak. All of it.
Even the fact that she held herself back, but yet kissed with passion, then stepped back to analyze—or over-analyze, more accurately—the situation fascinated him. In a city full of flash and faux, it proved to him that Lisa was a real person who contemplated the consequences of her actions. She wasn’t willing to risk it all on a roll of the dice.
Could he convince her to risk her heart—before it was all too late?
“I bet she’s back in her suite, Lisa. You don’t need to be so nervous.” Ryan watched Lisa chew the tip of her fingernail into oblivion as they rode up the elevator to the suite.
She shook her head. “You didn’t see her. I’ve never seen her that agitated.”
“I’ve never seen you this agitated.”
The doors opened and Lisa’s body language replied wordlessly as she walked through the double doors. Although her hands still fidgeted, now her head bowed and her shoulders rounded forward, aging her by at least ten additional years.
Lucky in Love Page 13