Grand Hotel

by Mary Davis

  It was about time. Only an hour before the wedding! “I’ll tell her.” She hung up and went over to Constance. “Don’t panic, but—”

  “Something happened to Henry.” She panicked.

  “Henry’s fine. Cookie’s here.”

  “Oh, good.” Constance’s shoulders relaxed. “To both.”

  “I thought you’d be stressed over having Cookie here.”

  “She’s Henry’s daughter. He would be disappointed if she didn’t make it. I did some hard praying about it. If Cookie decides to cause a stir, I won’t let it bother me. The wedding is in the Lord’s hands. If it happens or not, it is up to the Lord.” Constance really did look relaxed. “I hope Cookie can be happy for us. If not. . .then not.”

  “Wow. Is this the same woman who almost ripped her cloth handkerchief in half with her worrying?”

  “It’s amazing what prayer can do. And what good did worrying ever do? ‘Don’t worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow has enough troubles of its own.’ Okay I’m still worrying a little. I do want her to like me.”

  An hour later, Aimee stood on her tiptoes to pin a hat with a short veil atop Constance’s freshly styled hair. She was as beautiful as any bride could be.

  Aimee wore a lavender dress and hat. “The carriage will be here in a few minutes.” She stepped back. “You look absolutely beautiful. I hope I look as beautiful on my wedding day as you do now.”

  Constance turned to her with a wide smile. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like maybe that nice assistant hotel manager proposed to you?”

  “Dillon? Marriage isn’t in his five-year plan. And if it’s not in the plan, it ain’t gonna happen.”

  “He just needs to be sure of himself first.”

  “Dillon is always sure of himself. And he is sure that he is not getting married anytime in the near or distant future because it would deviate him from his goals.” She heard the clomp of horse’s hooves outside the open window and peeked out. “Your carriage awaits.”

  Constance took her cloth handkerchief and twisted it. “I’m suddenly nervous.”

  “Are you sure you want to marry Henry?”

  “Very much.”

  “Then only think of him. The rest of us don’t exist.”

  “But—”

  “Eh, eh, eh. Only you and Henry.”

  Constance closed her mouth and picked up her bouquet. “Thank you for everything.”

  “I haven’t done much.”

  “When you walked up my path that first day, I thought, This girl is going to change my life. I didn’t know how. But it was all for the better. Thank you for stepping into my life. I was in such a rut that I needed someone else to pull me out.”

  She wished she could get someone else out of his rut. She opened the front door just as Dillon had his hand raised to knock. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  He turned to Constance. “Mrs. Mayhew—soon-to-be Johnson—I haven’t seen a more beautiful bride.”

  “I bet this one would make an even more beautiful bride.”

  Aimee widened her eyes. “Constance!”

  “Ah, that she might. I have come to escort the two of you to the wedding.” He held out an arm to each of them.

  Constance took Dillon’s arm. “Come on, Sammy.” Sammy trotted to her side. He looked adorable in his black bow tie.

  Aimee locked the door and took Dillon’s other arm. “We weren’t expecting you to personally pick us up.”

  “Henry gave me strict instructions to make sure his bride got to the church. He didn’t want her to get cold feet.”

  Constance huffed and climbed aboard the carriage. “How impertinent of him.”

  Aimee took Dillon’s offered hand to climb inside and scooted next to Constance; then he followed, sitting next to her. She was dying to know about Cookie but didn’t want to ask in front of Constance.

  The wedding ceremony was small with only close friends and family. Sammy had sat patiently at Constance’s feet. The lavish reception at the hotel was teeming with people. It seemed as though the whole island had turned out.

  A woman with unnaturally red spiked hair greeted the bride and groom. Earlier Susan had identified her to Aimee as her sister, Cookie.

  Aimee held her breath.

  “Don’t worry. She’ll behave.”

  She turned to Susan who had silently come up beside her. Lucy sat on her hip picking at the ruffles on her dress.

  “Daddy talked to her before the ceremony. She understands.”

  Cookie gave Constance a hug.

  “I’m going to congratulate the newlyweds. It was nice seeing you again.”

  All seemed well, so she finally sat down at a table to rest her tired feet. Jove joined her and held out a cup of punch to her. She gladly took it. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” He draped one arm across the back of her chair. “I know you’ve been busy with all the wedding prep, but once all is said and done and the happy couple is off, I’d like to take you for a moonlight carriage ride around the island.”

  She took a sip of punch and set her cup on the table. “Jove, how do I tell you no without hurting your feelings? You have been very sweet, but I’m just not interested in that way.”

  He studied her a moment. “So you really aren’t playing hard to get to see what lengths I’ll go to woo you?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a fair game to play.”

  “An honest woman who honestly has no interest in me. Interesting. I wish I knew what I could do to change your mind.”

  “You would need to become a Christian for starters.”

  He pulled a face. “That would seriously cramp my style.”

  “Well, that’s my style.”

  “If I could just change that one thing.”

  “You can’t. God is permanent.”

  He removed his arm from the back of her chair and stood. “If you change your mind, I’m in the Garden Suite.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Can you leave a guy with a little hope?”

  “False hope?”

  “Hope is hope.” He walked away.

  ❧

  Dillon watched again as Jovan occupied Aimee’s attention. He wished he knew if she was just being nice to him or if she actually enjoyed his company. Jovan had a carefree charisma that women seemed to be drawn to.

  Dillon knew that he had no such charisma. One couldn’t plan charisma. And if it couldn’t be planned, he couldn’t do it.

  “You watch her from a distance long enough, and one of these times you’ll watch her walk right out of your life.”

  He turned and considered Katie’s words.

  She elbowed him. “What are you waiting for? If you like her, tell her.”

  Like didn’t cover the gamut of emotions Aimee rocked in him. The one pulling out in front most would be labeled as love. But could Aimee be happy with him? He wasn’t a free spirit like her. . .and Jove. He was bound by his plans. If he didn’t plan, he felt lost. He felt lost without Aimee, too. But most of all, he wanted Aimee to be happy in her life. . .even if that life was without him.

  Fifteen

  Aimee slipped off her shoes. It had been a beautiful wedding, but she was glad it was over and could rest her tired feet. She could almost hear her bed calling her. And she didn’t have to travel over to Constance’s house. Just a quick ride up the elevator. She pressed the up button.

  “Aimee.”

  She turned at her name.

  Steve jogged toward her. “You aren’t turning in, are you?”

  “It’s been a long day.”

  “I need you to come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise. You might want to put your shoes on.”

  “Then I’m not going. My feet hurt.”

  “Fine.” He grabbed her shoes from her hands and gave them a toss. “No shoes.” He grabbed her hand and pulle
d her toward the front doors.

  “Steve.”

  Carrottop Kevin opened the door with a big grin.

  When she saw the carriage, she stopped short and gave a heavy sigh. Jove. “I’m not going.” Jove had to understand.

  Steve looked at her and back at the carriage. “You have to.”

  “No, I don’t.” She turned back toward the door.

  Steve stepped in front of her. “Please. If you don’t, I—I—”

  “You what?”

  “I could lose my job.”

  She rolled her eyes. “There is no way you would lose your job because I won’t take a carriage ride.”

  Steve knelt down and pressed his hands together. “Please. Do me this one favor.”

  “I know what this is about, and I don’t want to go.”

  “Then you know what a bad position I’m in. If you don’t go, I’ll pick you up and carry you to the carriage.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the carriage. “Come on, you can do it. One foot in front of the other.”

  “You know, you are really annoying.”

  He gave her a big fake smile. “And proud of it. And I’ll continue to be annoying until you get into that carriage.”

  What was the use? She heaved a big sigh. This time she wouldn’t try to be nice. She would tell Jove no and that he had to stop pursuing her. She took Steve’s hand to steady herself and stepped aboard. “I want my shoes.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Steve returned quickly and handed her shoes to her with a bow and a circular wave of his hand. “Driver, you may go now.”

  The carriage lurched forward and wound down Cadotte Avenue toward the water. She gazed up at the full moon, and her stomach twisted. She did not want to meet with Jove in some secluded place in the dark. How could she have let Steve push her into this?

  “Driver, stop.”

  He pulled on the reins, and the horses eased the carriage to a stop.

  “Take me back to the hotel.”

  The driver turned in his seat and took off his top hat. “But we’re almost there.”

  “Dillon!” What a relief. “This was all your idea?”

  “Whom were you hoping for? Jovan?”

  “No, I was afraid it was him. He just doesn’t take no for an answer very easily.”

  “So you’re not disappointed?”

  Her mouth pulled into a smile. “Not at all.”

  “May I continue then?”

  “Sure.”

  He snapped the reins and drove a little ways farther on the road. After setting the brake and looping the reins, he jumped down and gave her a hand to help her out of the carriage.

  “Why didn’t you just ask me to go for a carriage ride?”

  “You were pretty stressed today over Cookie. I thought you might like a peaceful ride. I didn’t think you would give Steve such a hard time.” Dillon led her onto the beach.

  She walked as much on her toes as possible and was grateful her heels weren’t any higher. She didn’t want to spoil this time by complaining about her shoes sinking into the sand. But they were filling up. She would take them off, but the sand was littered with rocks, about a fifty-fifty mix. She put a hand on Dillon’s shoulder to steady herself. He stopped. She poured the sand out of one shoe and then the other.

  He snapped his fingers. “I didn’t think about your shoes. Do you want to go back to the carriage?”

  “I’m here now. If I stand in one place, it won’t be so bad.”

  He stepped around her and took her left hand and slipped his other hand into his pocket. “Remember when you asked me how I’d propose.”

  “Yes.” It hadn’t fit into his five-year plan. Maybe she needed to make her own five-year plan, a plan that would include him. No, that wouldn’t work. Not only could she not even imagine how to start on a plan that long, but it would involve changing Dillon’s plans, which seemed to be carved in stone. And if she did manage to alter his course in life, she would only drive him crazy with her lack of direction.

  “You got me thinking. I think I would take my intended someplace alone, where it would just be the two of us, a romantic setting.”

  This was romantic. And they were alone.

  “Perhaps a walk on a moonlit night.”

  She glanced up at the full moon and smiled.

  “I would pull out my mother’s wedding ring from my pocket.” He pulled his left hand out of his pocket.

  She stopped breathing.

  “I would bend down on one knee”—and he did—“hold out the ring, and ask her.”

  Her hands began to shake.

  “Aimee Mikkelson, will you marry me?”

  She quickly raised her free hand to her mouth and accidentally hit his hand with the ring in it. Or rather, the hand that used to have the ring in it. She hadn’t seen where it had flown. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I lost your mother’s ring.” She knelt down and started groping in the sand and rocks.

  He grabbed her busy hands. “Here it is.” Almost like magic, the ring was back in his hand.

  She was sure she had seen it go flying. “How did you do that?”

  He slid his fingers along a slender thread tied to the ring.

  “You planned that I’d be a klutz and lose the ring?” She wasn’t sure how to take that.

  “No, I thought in my nervousness I’d drop it.” They knelt face-to-face. “So will you marry me?”

  He planned everything in his well-ordered life so he would succeed. Even to not lose his mother’s ring. She stood and brushed off her knees. “You don’t know what you are asking.”

  He stood, as well. “I’m asking you to spend the rest of your life with me. I thought you had feelings for me, too.”

  “Oh, Dillon, I do. Very strong feelings. And it is because of the love I have for you that I can’t marry you.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I just don’t think it would work out.”

  “The Lord is capable of mighty things.”

  “It’s like a caged bird asking a cat to marry him. You are asking me, Miss Chaos herself, to be thrown into your perfectly ordered world. Have you thought about what that would do to all your well-laid plans?”

  “It would add a little spice to them.”

  “Your life would be a mess. I don’t plan hardly anything, and when I do, I often change those plans at the last minute. I can’t go from no plans at all to having every minute accounted for. I like that you plan. There is a safety in it, a sense of security. It’s part of what attracts me to you. But what could I give back to you but stress and headaches?”

  Dillon’s green-eyed gaze bore into her. “I don’t want you to change. I need you just how you are. When my mom died, a piece of me died with her. I didn’t realize how dead I was until you walked through the front doors of the hotel. You are like a breath of new life. Not the kind of eternal life the Lord gives, but like the sweet scent of June when the lilacs are in bloom. I feel as though the Lord is saying that I’ve mourned long enough. He’s giving me another chance. There is something about the unknown that breathes life into everything. I want to change. Help me live again. Help me be more spontaneous. I can’t give up planning altogether, but I can’t remember doing one spontaneous thing since my mom died. She wouldn’t want me to live like this. You have shown me that.”

  That was so beautiful. But spontaneous? “You really want to be spontaneous?”

  “I’ll prove it to you. Ask me to do something like you did that one time, and I failed. I won’t fail this time.” He gazed into her eyes. “Ask me.”

  Was he serious? “You’re not going to hesitate but just do whatever I tell you to do?”

  He nodded. “Whatever you say.”

  She could almost read in his look that he expected her to ask him to kiss her. “Wade in the water.”

  His eyebrows rose; then he smiled and turned toward the water.

  “Aren’t you going to take off your shoes first?”<
br />
  “Nope. Too much planning and thought.”

  She grabbed his arm. “You’ll ruin your shoes.”

  He squeezed her hand and removed it from his arm.

  She grabbed his arm again. “I believe you.”

  “You are negating the spontaneity of the moment by detaining me.” He scooped her up into his arms and walked out into the water.

  “I can’t believe you just did that. Is it cold?”

  “You want to find out?” He loosened his grip on her momentarily, then tightened it.

  She clutched him around his neck. “You’re dangerous when you’re spontaneous.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “I’m never spontaneous.”

  She glanced down at the water. “What do you call this?” It would only take him a second to release her from his stronghold.

  “Plan B.”

  “You planned this?”

  “If you were difficult, dumping you in Lake Huron was an option I considered.”

  “Well, please unconsider it.”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “We’ve only known each other for six weeks.”

  “We’ll have a long engagement.”

  “Are you sure?” She was sure about him.

  “You know me better than most. I don’t let people in easily. I’m not like your high school friends planning their weddings where all they needed was a name. There is only one name that can fit in the blank of my life—Aimee Mikkelson.”

  How could she say no when he was the only one to fit in her blank, as well? “Yes.”

  He kissed her as he waded out of the water and set her on the dry sand. He untied the thread from the ring, took her hand, and slipped it on her finger. “Now that you are going to be a permanent part of my life, I’d like for you to approve my new one-, five-, and ten-year plans.”

  “You made new plans already?”

  “I don’t function well without a plan. Maybe over the next fifty or sixty years, you can teach me how to live in the moment without a plan. But for now, I still need them.”

  “So in planning your life for the next ten years, you have also planned mine?” She wasn’t sure how she felt about being locked into something for that long.

  “Now that I have you, I’m not going to plan you out of my life.”