Carolina Mercy (A Southern Breeze Series Book 2)

by Regina Rudd Merrick

  “Okay, you’re much braver than I would have been. I’m still in awe that I have this rock on my finger and am marrying Jared.”

  They both stopped to sigh over the ring once more.

  Lucy tilted her head. “With everything that’s happened, I realize I’ve been wrapped in cotton-wool all my life. Daddy made everything easy. Now I don’t have him to run things by, and I don’t have him to make everything turn out the way I want it to.”

  “You’re pretty tough, you know.” Sarah smiled at her friend and reached for her hand.

  “I’m really not. I’m a big marshmallow inside.”

  “And a Bantam hen on the outside.”

  Emotion washed over her as she thought about Dad and how he laughed when she stood up to him. Her stature was never as tall as when she was trying to get her way or win an argument. Lucy swiped a tear from her cheek and laughed. “True. I think I’ve got my Granny to thank for that one.”

  “How long can you stay?”

  Lucy hugged her knees to herself, happy to be there with Sarah. “Long enough to make sure you don’t put me in a bridesmaid dress that makes me look like Mary Todd Lincoln.”

  Sarah laughed. Lucy’s greatest fear in formal wear. She found out early on that poufy ball gowns and short girls were a bad idea.

  She held her hand up. “I promise. I suppose I could do the cake testing after you leave.”

  “Uh, no. That is the main part I want to have a say in. I’ve seen way too many wedding shows to miss out on that part. What about flowers?”

  “I don’t want a lot, but it would be nice to have you around for the selection. Tell you what, I’ll talk to Jared, and I’ll take the rest of this week off. I would rather take time off now than later, when the open house will be upon us.”

  “True. What about your classes?” Lucy knew Sarah was trying to fast-track her real estate classes to get her certification.

  “I’ve turned in the paper due next week, so I’m good for a couple of weeks. I’m not concerned about getting it all done before the wedding. In fact, I’m not taking any classes this fall. I’ve got three now and two in the summer, and that will leave me fifteen courses.” Her eyes widened. “It’s a lot, but I like the classes, and I like working at the firm.”

  “I love it. ‘The firm.’ It makes me think you’re in a John Grisham novel.” Lucy giggled.

  “It does sound weird, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but in a good way.” Lucy smiled at Sarah. She was proud of her. To change careers, to move hundreds of miles from home, took courage and trust. Trust in God and in herself.

  Sarah looked at her phone. “On the off chance we were able to get it in while you’re here, I made a few appointments for us.”

  “How many appointments?”

  Sarah grinned. “Well, tomorrow the bridal salon, Saturday cake, and Jared’s joining us on that one. He insisted.”

  “Of course he did. Why don’t best men do all this stuff?”

  “Would you really trust Jared and Tom to select your bridesmaid dress? You would either be dressed like Beyoncé or Mary Todd Lincoln, depending upon their mood.”

  “Very true.”

  Sarah gave Lucy a calculating look. “Now, I could invite Tom to accompany us to the cake-tasting session if you’d like.”

  She could feel the heat rising to her face as her heart picked up the pace. Of course she’d ‘like’, but she wasn’t going to admit it, even to Sarah. Not now anyway. Picking at the quilt on her bed, Lucy shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Tom, you have icing on your nose.”

  Lucy was trying her best to be friendly but not too friendly. Tom was being impossible. She could have sworn his eyes lit up when he saw her and then? Nothing. The shutters came down. He was painfully polite. So polite it would be easy for her to burst into tears.

  “Thank you.”

  That was all she got. Thank you. She raised her eyes in a silent prayer of frustration. “Lord, who is this man and where is the man who kissed me on the boardwalk last summer?”

  “What do you think?” Emmaline Quincy, the wedding coordinator, had observed each of them as they tasted ten different cake and frosting combinations.

  “About what?” Lucy realized the question was directed at her, and she was not asking about her opinion on one Tom Livingston. Heat rushed into her cheeks as she struggled to get herself under control without nervous laughter.

  Sarah sighed and poked her. “The cakes, silly.”

  She had to switch gears. “Hmm. I liked the banana cake with chocolate buttercream, and I liked the lemon cake with the lemon curd and white buttercream too. But there was also the Devil’s food with chocolate ganache and praline buttercream . . . I’m glad it’s your decision.”

  “That’s the problem. There are too many choices.” Sarah laughed. “I love all the chocolate, but the lemon would look really pretty.”

  “Maybe swap the layers?” Jared spoke up. “I liked the chocolate with the mocha frosting. What about you, Tom?”

  He hesitated and glanced at Lucy so quickly that she almost thought she imagined it. “I liked the banana too. But the mocha icing was exceptional. Like a cup of really good coffee.”

  “That settles it.” Sarah looked at each of them. “I officially can’t decide. Emmaline, what do you think?”

  Emmaline chuckled. “I think I can make the decision for you based on your comments. Now for the design.”

  Lucy dreaded the long drive back to Kentucky. She thought about going back through Atlanta and visiting her grandmother but decided she needed a little time on her own. It still didn’t seem real that Dad wouldn’t be there to greet her when she got home and to fuss over her calling when she left and along the way. Now she was alone.

  The bridesmaid dresses had achieved her approval. She chose simple, wispy chiffon that would suit all of the bridesmaids, even the height-challenged ones.

  The cake testing was more of a test than she had anticipated. Not only was there a myriad of flavors to choose from, but also the Tom factor. He agreed to go along with them. Did he show the slightest bit of interest in her? None. He avoided being alone with her at all costs. She may as well have been invisible or his sister for all the attention he gave her.

  Well, if that was the way he was going to be, he could be alone as long as he wanted. He didn’t deserve a girl like her.

  “Wow. That was humble. What was that verse, God? He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” She blinked the tears away. “I’m sorry. You ask so little of me, and here I go, expecting You to put it all on a silver platter like Daddy did.”

  “And I guess You did, didn’t you? Help me, God. Help me know when I’m thinking too much of myself and too little of everyone around me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Tom was a grouch. He knew it. He knew why. He knew there wasn’t one thing he could do about it. Well, maybe one thing. Maybe not treat Lucy like she was nothing to him, because she was. She was everything, but she could never know it. He knew he had hurt her when they went with Jared and Sarah on the cake-tasting expedition. She was angry and confused, and he knew whose fault it was. And now he had to face Jared at the tuxedo store.

  He drove across the Waccamaw and Pee Dee Rivers to Georgetown, running late. He had a last-minute report to complete, and then the sheriff brought a new guy around to introduce him. Sam Watson was a new state police department detective and was acting as a liaison between the state, the sheriff’s office, and emergency management throughout Georgetown County. Seemed like a nice guy, but it slowed down his departure. Sarah wouldn’t be happy.

  He pulled in to the parking lot, grimacing when he noted the tuxedoed mannequins in the front windows. His throat constricted at the very thought of the bow tie. But Jared was his best friend, and he would do whatever he could to make their day the best it could be.

  He knew he was in trouble. Upo
n entering the shop, there was an impatient Sarah tapping her foot. Good-natured Sarah was beginning to exhibit “bridezilla” tendencies, especially since her mom hadn’t come yet, and Lucy had gone home.

  Tom held his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Sarah, it couldn’t be helped. Got hung up at work.”

  She sighed and gave him a nervous grin. “I figured it was something like that. Jared went ahead and started trying on. You haven’t missed much.”

  He chuckled. “I guess I could have used my lights and siren to get across the bridges faster.”

  “Could you have done that?” Sarah was dead serious. When she realized he was joking, she gave him a dirty look.

  “What color are we to be graced with? Powder blue? Lavender?” He winked at her.

  “Basic black or charcoal grey. I like my men to look classic. Think James Bond.”

  “Which Bond? I mean, they are all different in their own way.”

  “Sean Connery Bond, of course. He will always be the perfect Bond in my opinion. But then Daniel Craig looks pretty good in a tux as well.” Sarah was loosening up. “And no tails. Totally unnecessary.”

  “Good. I didn’t want to get mistaken for a waiter.”

  Jared came out in a black tux a shade darker and blacker than his hair. “Hey, Tom. Sarah, what about this one?”

  She put her hand to her chin and walked around him, pulling on this and tugging on that. “I like it. Do you like the vest or the cummerbund better?”

  Tom and Jared spoke at the same time. “Vest.”

  Sarah laughed. “Well, I guess that’s settled. Vest, it is. Now go try on the gray one.”

  Tom grinned.

  “Both of you.”

  His grin faded. “Do I have to try on the tie?”

  Jared laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “The whole enchilada, brother.”

  He followed him into the dressing area after being measured by the sales person.

  “You know, Jared, they have courthouses for occasions like, say, weddings.”

  “Ha. Believe me, I mentioned it. We both agreed that our mothers would put out a hit on us. Not to mention her sister. This is the least I can do to have the blessing of having Sarah for the rest of my life. You’ll see. One of these days you’ll be hit with the same lightning bolt.”

  “Some people survive that lightning bolt and live to tell it.” Tom struggled with the collar of the shirt.

  “It seems to me you haven’t let the bolt do its thing. What about Lucy?” Jared seemed like he was avoiding Tom’s eyes.

  “What about her?” If Jared wanted information, he’d have to drag it out of him.

  “Seems to me that lightning bolt hit you when you met her, or was I mistaken?”

  How do you tell your buddy to mind his own business?

  “Maybe we were both mistaken.”

  Jared stood next to his friend in front of the mirror. Both of them were looking at themselves with a critical eye. “I don’t think we were. She really likes you, Tom.”

  “Well, maybe she shouldn’t.” He was beginning to feel trapped, the red beginning to infuse his neck and face. Looking in the mirror, he not only felt the heat, but saw it as well. He blamed his Scottish heritage.

  Jared turned toward Tom. “You don’t know a good thing when you see it.”

  “Jared, you don’t have to worry about Sarah. She comes from regular folks, like me. You? Well, you’re rich, man. I have no problem with gender equality, but a man wants to feel like he’s providing for his wife, not the other way around.”

  Tom could tell Jared was getting angry. “That’s about the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard you say. You know I don’t come from any different economic background than you.”

  “Jared, she’s wealthy. You saw Lucy’s house. You met her grandmother. You really think her dad, if he were living, would like the idea of his princess hooking up with a cop in a small town in South Carolina? What do you think her grandmother would think? I’m done, Jared. You can reach for the stars because you’re already there. Me? I know what I’m worth, and when I look at my bank account, I know it’s not much.”

  “Guys, what’s taking so long?” Sarah’s voice came floating through the hallway to the dressing rooms.

  Jared called out to her. “We’ll be there in a minute, Sarah.” He turned to Tom. “You’re wrong, you know. Dead wrong. Lucy’s not like that, and I have a feeling her family isn’t, either. From what I’ve heard about her father, he would have been proud to have a son-in-law like you. Now let’s get out there and put on a smiling face for Sarah, and agree to disagree. For now.”

  “Sir, yes sir.” Tom raised his hand in grim salute and walked out of the dressing room. He’d said it. He told Jared what was holding him up, and his closest friend had rebuked him.

  He at least expected sympathy, because he wasn’t wrong.

  Chapter Eight

  “Cupcakes?”

  “Check. And punch, finger sandwiches, fruit, veggies, and more food than anybody needs at a bridal shower.” Susan looked over the list. “It will be perfect.”

  They stood at the island of Susan and Mike’s newly-remodeled kitchen. The inheritance that had moved Sarah to South Carolina had benefitted her sister and brother-in-law as well, with their income from Crawford and Benton being invested in their house and a college fund for their twin girls, Trudy and Abby.

  Lucy sighed. “It has to be. She’s the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had.”

  Susan laughed. “What do you know? Me too!” That put the smile back on Lucy’s face.

  Lucy hugged Susan tightly. “I’m glad to have you for a big sister.”

  Susan hugged her back and gave her an extra squeeze. “I am too. I’m glad my little sister has good taste in friends.”

  “And in husbands.”

  “Definitely. Marc was great, but Jared? He’s the one we prayed for, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Now you can start praying for me. I wish I knew what the Lord has in store for me.” She sat on a bar stool, picked up the pen, and tapped it on the notepad that had the list on it. “Maybe I’m supposed to be alone. D’you think?” She looked wistfully up at Susan.

  Susan gave her an extra hug around the shoulders. “I can’t speak for God, but I’ve heard there’s someone in South Carolina that might have caught your eye?”

  Lucy blushed. The familiar leap of hurt, pride, and anger at Tom Livingston simmered near the surface. “Well, it seems it wasn’t reciprocated.”

  “Don’t worry. God has a plan for all of us. For me, it was Mike and twins. It was easy. Well, except for the twins, but I survived, and so did they. For Sarah, it involved a lot more heartache than I wanted for her. Sometimes we have to survive the heartache, like we have to survive the pain of having premature twins. I don’t pretend to understand His ways, but God has it all under control.”

  “I know. At one point I thought maybe Tom was ‘the one.’ Then it was like it never happened. How do you get around that?”

  “By being patient. Not your strong suit, I know.” Susan patted her arm. “Things have a way of working out. If He doesn’t give you what you want, if you’re willing, He will change your heart to closer match His.”

  “It’s time to let go of the past, son.” Tom wasn’t happy and for a number of reasons. This one as personal as the others. His mother wanted to sell off the family antiques, some of which had been in the house since before their family took possession in the early 1800s.

  “I understand, Mama, but I see no reason to get rid of things that mean something to Charly and me. And what about your grandchildren? Don’t you want them to have things that belonged to generations before them?”

  “Yes, I suppose. It’s getting harder to be sentimental about things I can no longer see. Almost like the act of doing something outweighs the value. But what will any of us do with a nine-foot-tall wardrobe?” Mom sighed and laid her hand on the smooth wood. “Remember when you read The Lion, the Witc
h, and the Wardrobe?” She chuckled. “You were forever hiding in this thing, hoping one of those times the back would lead you to Narnia.”

  Tom smiled at the memory. “Yeah. I fell asleep in there once, on top of all those quilts, and had a dream the back really did lead to Narnia, except our Narnia was hot and humid. Charly tried it a few times as well.”

  She laughed. “Only a boy from the South would dream about Narnia like that.”

  “I think it was because I was smothering in there.” Tears pricked at him. He didn’t want to get sentimental about “stuff,” but this was his childhood, his mother’s, and his grandmother’s.

  “Tell you what, Mama, How about I rent a storage unit, and when the time comes that you sell the place and move to a smaller one, we’ll put it in there and you’ll have a lot of furniture to choose from. If you want to buy all new stuff, that’s fine. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  “I suppose that would be the wise decision. When did you get to be so smart?” She reached for his hand.

  He took hers and squeezed it. “I guess I take after my Mama.”

  “I’ve always been so determined to not be like my mama, I’m afraid I may have kept you and Charly from being proud of your heritage. It isn’t that I’m not proud; it’s that I don’t want to worship it like my mama did. Does that make sense?”

  “Yep. It’s like me being a neat-freak. I loved Dad and learned many important things from him, but he never put stuff away, remember?” He smiled at the memories. “When I was a teenager it always made me mad when he asked me to clean things up, because his workbench was always a mess.”

  “Still is, isn’t it?” His mother pursed her lips in good humor. “When he passed, I went out there and noticed all the tools on the bench, out of their places on the peg-board. You fixed that for him, and he was so proud of it. But did he use it?”

  “Occasionally I would go and put all the tools on it, but after Dad died, I didn’t have the heart to put it in order. I wanted to think of him coming in and out, throwing a tool down and picking up another one.”