“That’s something to consider,” Anne had responded diplomatically.
Mother and daughter did consider it, and the bride-to-be stuck to her plan for an outdoor wedding. They cut the guest list, but not enough, since even after that her mother worried about where they’d put everyone.
Planning the event had been easy. Both mother and daughter had been delighted with all of Anne’s ideas, making it a snap to take care of ordering the cake and flowers and finding the DJ and caterer, renting the chairs and the tent and the dishes and linens. Now all sat in readiness waiting for the bridal party to finish with photos in the garden and on the dock.
Anne blinked as something wet hit her in the eye. This was followed by another something wet splashing her cheek. Oh, no. Here came the rain.
The photographer was finishing up, and Felicity and her groom and their posse began horsing around on the dock, the guys pretending to push the girls off and the girls squealing in mock horror. Ah, the energy of youth. They seemed oblivious of the darkening gray clouds and the spatter.
The mother of the bride wasn’t, though. She hurried over to Anne, her face a study in motherly concern. “Oh, Anne, you were right. This was a bad idea. I wish I’d never let Felicity talk me into this.”
Anne was never one for I-told-you-so. “What would you like to do?”
“Felicity will want to wait and see if this blows over.”
Maybe it would, but not in time for the wedding to take place outdoors. They’d have to move the ceremony inside. Anne looked over to where Felicity stood on the dock, laughing. A speedboat decorated with flowers bobbed next to it, ready for the father of the bride to motor the couple to an undisclosed wedding-night location. She felt sorry for Felicity and her mom. They’d taken a gamble and lost.
Trina shook her head. “She wanted an outdoor wedding so badly, and she wanted it this weekend.”
Anne knew why. Trina had told her. Felicity had wanted to honor her older sister, who had died in April twelve years earlier from childhood leukemia. Later in the evening the wedding party planned to toss their flowers on the lake in honor of her.
When Anne had brought up concerns about the weather, Felicity had insisted that the day she’d picked would be sunny. It had to be. The universe couldn’t be that cruel.
It had been all Anne could do not to say, “Oh, yes, it can. In fact, the universe doesn’t care two figs about you or any of us.”
1997
Anne burrowed under her blankets on the couch and turned up the TV, ignoring the ringing phone. She knew it would be her mom calling to check up on her, but she didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even Mom. All she wanted to do was stay here forever watching soaps on TV and feeling sorry for herself. She’d been doing a pretty good job of it, too. So far, forever had lasted three months. She barely cleaned; she served sandwiches and canned chili for dinner, and let her business slide, leaving Kendra, who’d only recently come on board, scrambling.
“We can try again,” Cam had said after her first miscarriage, holding her in his arms and kissing the top of her head.
But now she was convinced it didn’t matter how many times they tried. They were never going to have another baby.
“It’s a blessing in disguise,” her grandmother had said after each miscarriage. “Something must’ve been wrong with the baby. This is nature’s way of telling you to start again.”
No, it was nature’s way of taunting her. She’d always thought they’d have at least two children, maybe three, or even four. She’d longed to hear the thunder of feet as her children raced up and down the stairs, longed to hear giggles and see sisters and brothers playing together in the backyard. She felt cheated and angry, and she felt especially angry at God. This was her third miscarriage. How could He let this happen?
“How is it that any bad thing happens?” her mother had responded earlier in the week when Anne was venting her anger. “There are no guarantees in this world. You know that. All we can do is enjoy the good things that come our way and accept the bad.”
Well, Anne didn’t want to accept the bad. Her arms ached to hold the little one who’d tried so hard to hang on inside her. She felt the loss as surely as if she’d carried the baby to term. Now she was in deep mourning, her husband and daughter mere figures, blurred and moving at the dark edges of her grief.
The phone rang again. She turned the volume on the TV even higher.
Later in the day she was still on the couch when her mom let herself in with the spare key Anne and Cam kept under the flowerpot out front. “I don’t want to see anyone,” Anne greeted her and burrowed deeper under her blankets.
“I know.” Her mother sat down on the opposite end of the couch, settling Anne’s feet in her lap and starting a foot massage.
“It’s not fair,” Anne said bitterly.
“I know. But you still have a living daughter.”
Anne pulled her foot away. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her mother calmly took back her foot and resumed rubbing. “I’m only agreeing with you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to teach me a lesson.”
Julia smiled. “Things always had to be fair when you were growing up. I had to make sure you and your sister both got the exact same number of cookies for your after-school snack, the exact same number of gifts at Christmas. And, oh, the complaints when she was allowed to stay up as late as you on special occasions.”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this.”
“Going? I’m simply agreeing with you. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you still have a healthy, happy child when so many women all over the world wind up with none. Come to think of it, it’s not fair that you have such a kind, loving husband who’s always there for you. Or such a nice house. And plenty of food on the table.”
“Now you’re going to lay a guilt trip on me for feeling the way I do?” Anne demanded, incredulous.
Julia stopped the foot rub. “No, sweetie. Remember, I had a miscarriage between you and Kendra and it broke my heart. But I couldn’t stay brokenhearted forever. I still had a child who needed me. And after losing the baby, well, you became even more precious.”
Anne had been too wrapped up in her grief to remember what she still had.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t mourn this loss,” her mom continued. “All those hopes and dreams, gone, the little one finished before even getting a chance at life. It’s horrible. But at some point you have to go on. You can’t lie on this couch forever. And you can’t let yourself become bitter. It’s not fair to your husband and the child you have.”
Anne chewed her lip, taking that in and yet wishing she didn’t have to.
“You still have so much to be thankful for,” Julia said gently.
“I don’t want to be thankful, damn it!” This was followed by a storm of tears and a maternal shoulder to cry on. And hugs. And a quiet prayer together.
An hour later, Anne got up and made a real dinner for her family for the first time in three months.
Dinner wasn’t all she made. She made an attitude adjustment, too. She reentered life with a vengeance. She and Cam took tango lessons and started scheduling a monthly date night.
On their first night out, as they sat in a little Italian restaurant in lower Queen Anne, enjoying pizza and Chianti, she thanked him for being so patient and understanding. “I know you always wanted to have more kids.”
“But I’ve got you and Laney, and I’m okay with that, Annie. In fact, I’m more than okay. I think I’m a pretty lucky guy.”
“And I’m a lucky woman,” she said.
He raised his glass to her. “We’ve got a lot to be thankful for, babe.”
Yes, they did, she thought as they clinked glasses. Cam and her mother were right. In spite of what she’d lost, she c
ould still be thankful for what she had.
* * *
Now the wind had arrived, whipping the water on Lake Washington into whitecaps and tearing at the pretty white tent. While the groom and his groomsmen carried chairs into the basement, Anne, the bride and her mother and aunt all went into a wedding huddle.
The bride began to cry, her eyeliner running. “I can’t believe this! Where are we going to put everyone?”
“We’ll make it work,” Anne promised her. The basement was roomy and finished and had a fireplace, perfect for a floral arrangement. The bride and groom could take their vows in front of it. They’d have to forgo the tables and squeeze chairs along the walls. A number of guests would have to stand, and in the interests of squeezing everyone in, the bride would have to don a raincoat and make her entrance via the patio door.
“Good idea,” said the aunt after Anne had shared her ideas. “We can do this.”
“Go fix your makeup,” Trina said. “We’ll take care of everything.”
And they did. With Anne supervising, everyone got busy preparing for plan B. The bride patched up her makeup and found her smile again, even as the rain beat on the windows.
The guests came and the basement got hot with all the bodies in it. So hot, in fact, that the bride fainted just before saying, “I do.” Father fretted while the groom carried her to the nearest chair, and a friend of the family who happened to be a doctor helped revive her. A door was opened and a gust of wind blew in, along with a neighbor’s dog, who insisted on greeting one of the guests with his muddy paws. In spite of all that, the bride and groom finished their vows and the guests enjoyed their salmon, getting their food from the upstairs kitchen and spreading throughout the house to eat with their plates on their laps.
As the evening continued, the wind blew away the clouds and the night cleared up enough for dancing on the soppy lawn and, most important, for the bride and her bridesmaids and the groom and his groomsmen to cast their flowers on the water in memory of the bride’s sister.
“For a while there I wasn’t sure I’d be able to say this,” Trina said to Anne, “but it was a wonderful wedding.”
“Your daughter’s a wonderful girl.”
They turned to watch as, in the middle of the lawn, the groom spun his new bride in a circle, both of them laughing.
Bride and groom happy, mother of the bride happy—mission accomplished.
Chapter Twenty
Laney the Tour Guide
“I was thinking we should get together on Saturday after you’re done with work and wrap up a few more things for the wedding,” Mom said.
Laney found herself suddenly clenching her cell phone and walking faster on the treadmill at the gym. “I forgot to tell you. Drake and I are going up to Icicle Falls this weekend.”
Normally, she would’ve told her mother. She told her mother practically everything and they talked every day. But lately all they talked about was the wedding, and she was tired of talking about the wedding.
What was wrong with her? What kind of daughter didn’t want to talk with her mother about her wedding?
If only Mom wasn’t acting quite so...in charge. It had taken a fight in the middle of the stupid bridal shop for Laney to get the gown she wanted. Of course they’d made up, but things hadn’t felt quite the same since. Autumn’s words kept sneaking back into her mind every time Mom called to go over stuff. “It’s your wedding. Who’s in control?” Sometimes it didn’t feel as though she was at all.
Not that her mom didn’t ask what she wanted or what she thought. She did. But then when Laney told her, Mom seemed to find a way to shoot it down or change her mind.
And poor Drake—he’d really been left out. It seemed as if somehow things got decided and were a done deal before he even heard about them. That wasn’t right. A lot of guys couldn’t care less, but he wanted to be involved.
Well, this weekend he would be. It would be their time together. They’d check out the river, go dancing and, if the weather cooperated, get in a little rock climbing on Sunday before coming back to Seattle.
“That’s a good idea,” Mom said, bringing Laney back to the moment. “I’m sure Drake will love it up there.”
Laney hoped so. It was his wedding, too, and she wanted him to be excited about it. Actually, she wanted them both to be excited about it.
She was excited. Yes, she was!
“We can do more next week,” Mom said. “We need to get out those save-the-date cards.”
“I already sent them out,” Laney said. Her mom had almost made her crazy pushing to get those done. She hadn’t been this much of a slave driver since back in Laney’s junior year of high school, when Laney was applying at colleges. “It’s your wedding. Who’s in control?”
“And now people will be expecting invitations. You know they should go out two months in advance. We don’t want to wait too long.”
Everyone already had the date on their calendar, so Laney didn’t see what the big deal was, but she said, “Don’t worry, Mom.” She shouldn’t be dragging her feet like this. She should just sit down and do it. And she would. Next week. Or...when she had time. “I gotta finish my workout, Mom.”
“Oh. Well. Okay.”
They said their I-love-yous and then ended the call. Laney turned off her cell phone and upped the speed on the treadmill. She and Drake were going to have fun this weekend. He’d love Icicle Falls. Everything would get done and her wedding would be perfect. And she’d never been happier in her life.
She reminded herself again how happy she was once she and Drake were in his truck and on their way up the mountains to Icicle Falls. There were still some patches of snow on the ground but the evergreens were in their full glory. The sun was the center of attention in a cloudless, blue sky. In short, it was a beautiful day to be heading for the mountains.
She’d taken the day off, so they’d left at nine, which put them in Icicle Falls in time to have lunch at a burger place called Herman’s Hamburgers. They passed by a life-size wooden figure of a woman in a traditional German dirndl as they entered. She was holding a platter bearing a hamburger. The little sign hanging from her neck said Willkommen in Herman’s.
“Okay, what’s with that?” Drake asked.
“It goes with the theme,” Laney explained. “You know, it’s supposed to look like a Bavarian village up here. That’s what Mom says.”
“Whatever.”
He might have been unimpressed with the German theme of Herman’s but he loved the burgers and garlic fries. After that they moved on to Gerhardt’s Gasthaus, where Laney had found a bargain. This time they encountered real people wearing dirndls and lederhosen.
“Weird,” Drake said under his breath.
The lobby was all dark wood and carved wooden chandeliers with lights made to look like candles. A mounted deer’s head hung on one wall, watching them with glassy eyes. Another wall bore a coat of arms with a lion on it. Stepping into their room was like going back in time, with old furniture and some ornate wooden...things that reminded Laney of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
“Where’s the closet?” Drake asked.
“I think this is it.” Laney opened the doors on the thing and found a rack and hangers. “Yep.”
He came to stand behind her. “You don’t see that at Motel 6.”
“It’s kind of cool.”
“I guess.” It wasn’t hard to tell from his tone of voice that he didn’t agree with her. “Let’s get out of here.”
On their way out, they poked their heads into the little bar, taking in the huge wine casks and the decorative steins on the wall. Two old guys sat on bar stools, talking to another old guy who was pulling beer from the tap. “A real hot place,” he observed.
“We’re not gonna be here tonight,” Laney assured him.
“There’s dancing at the Red Barn.”
“The Red Barn? I’m guessing they don’t do rap there.”
“Uh, country?”
“Yee-haw,” he mocked.
“I’ve heard it’s a fun place.”
“There’s gotta be someplace here that is,” Drake said.
They made their way down the main street through the throng of tourists, watching the goings-on at the center of town. The aroma of sizzling bratwurst drifted over to them from the hot-dog place farther down the street, mixed with the tempting smells of waffle cones from the nearby ice cream and candy shop. A German oompah band was set up in the gazebo, playing accordions and yodeling, and in the middle of the street a gigantic maypole had been erected. Performers in traditional German costumes danced around it, wrapping it in colorful ribbons.
“Seriously weird,” Drake muttered as they passed.
“I saw this online,” Laney said. “It’s to celebrate May Day.”
“I thought that’s what people say in airplanes when they’re gonna crash,” he joked, eyeing the dancers as if they were some strange species. “I guess.”
So far he wasn’t exactly in love with the town. She shouldn’t have let her mother talk her into getting married in Icicle Falls.
Mom didn’t talk you into this, she told herself. You decided you wanted to get married on the river. And wait till Drake saw the river. Once they got down to the Wenatchee, heard the whoosh of water speeding past and saw the swirling, white eddies crashing around the boulders, his smile grew. Visiting Adventure Outfitters was like going to guy playland. They had kayaks stacked outside the building, river rafts and giant inner tubes down by the river, and inside she and Drake found all manner of outdoor sports equipment and toys.
“Oh, yeah,” Drake said with an appreciative smile. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
There was only one person in the store, and he was pulling life jackets out of shipping boxes and stacking them on a display table. He was older than them, maybe toward the end of his thirties, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. His hair was long and shaggy, and he was already getting some wrinkles, probably from spending too much time on the river.
A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7) Page 21