“This just keeps happening! What are we going to do?” she cried, flying over to his side, weight distribution be damned.
He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her. “It’s all right. Dan said the gondola gets testy with the weather. Just wait a second.”
“Okay, one. That’s one second,” she counted.
“Wait twenty seconds,” he countered.
She raised her index finger. “One, two—”
“Are you going to count it out all the way to twenty?”
She balked at him. Of course, she was going to count.
“We cannot have the gondola out of commission. It’s the only way to the chapel. And I have a rehearsal dinner to put on and cake to retrieve and—”
The mechanical hum cut off her rant as the wobbly gondola continued its ascent.
“See, it’s fine. No crazy wedding lady counting necessary,” he said, biting back a grin.
She leaned against him, savoring his comforting warmth, and sighed. “I’m a little tense.”
“A little?” he teased, but his tone was gentle.
“I want everything to be perfect for Lori and Tom. And I would want my parents and grandmother to think I did a good job. I know it sounds silly. But being here makes me feel closer to them.”
“It’s not silly, Bridget,” he answered with a touch of longing to his words.
She stroked his cheek. “Thank you.”
He glanced down at her. “For what?”
“For not being the worst best man after all,” she replied, craning her neck to give him a peck on the lips.
But he was in no mood for gondola kissing.
“Is that what you called me?”
She lifted her chin with mock haughtiness. “Among other things, yes.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head as they sat back and watched the chapel come into view. Falling snow framed the structure, and the windows glowed with the soft light of the chandeliers as forms moved past the two windows flanking the entrance. Tomorrow, she’d have the candles going, which, her parents had said, gave the space a beautiful, ethereal feel when they’d wed.
A grateful ease set in. It was all coming together.
Soren opened the door, and they hurried into the chapel, entering the sanctuary in a bluster of icy wind and a rush of snowflakes.
“Ah, good, you’re both here,” the judge said, waving them in from where he stood at the altar next to Tom and Lori.
“Cole and Carly just practiced their flower girl and ring bearer duties,” Grace said from where she sat in the front row with Scott and Russ.
“I pretended to throw the flower petals. Watch!” Carly chimed, mimicking the motion.
“Very well done,” Bridget replied, taking in the scene. “But don’t you want to practice from the beginning with all of us?”
Her sister shared a look with the judge. What was going on between the two of them?
“Tom and I had another thought for the rehearsal,” Lori said, now sharing a glance with her fiancé.
The judge patted Lori’s shoulder. “Because this is such a small gathering, Tom and Lori asked me to say a few words, and then they wanted to address everyone here in the chapel.”
“You don’t mind, Birdie, do you? There are a few things we need to say to you and Scooter in front of everyone,” Lori finished.
She couldn’t deny her sister’s request! It was the woman’s wedding, for Pete’s sake. She scanned the cozy space. Everyone had a curious expression. Even the kids seemed to be in on whatever this was.
Had her sister and Tom figured out that she and Soren were…
Were what?
A thing.
Or worse!
Did someone see Soren tiptoeing out to the Frosty jar five times last night?
Were they about to get called out in front of everyone?
She glanced back at the door. There was no turning back now.
There was nowhere to go, and no way to get out of whatever was about to go down.
17
Bridget
Bridget put on her best fake Birdie grin.
The one she used in real times of panic.
“I don’t mind at all. The judge is right. There isn’t much to practice with such a small group, and if you have something else that you’d like to do here, I’m all for it,” she replied with a touch too much go, team, go to her tone.
“Excellent, because we’d like for you and Scooter to join us at the altar,” the judge said. With Tom and Lori to his left, he gestured for her and Soren to stand at his right.
She glanced up at her wedding party counterpart to find him opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.
At least she wasn’t the only one caught off guard.
They took their places at the front of the chapel, and Lori threw her a strange little wink. But before she could give her sister a what-is-going-on look, the judge addressed the group.
“First, I want to speak for all the Abbotts when I say that we are thrilled to have Lori joining our family.”
“Here, here!” Denise called, as the others rang out in agreement with claps and hoots.
“Thank goodness! Just run-of-the-mill wedding-family stuff,” she cried with a relieved sigh that brought on an awkward silence.
“Of course, it’s wedding stuff, Birdie. Why else do you think we’d want you two up here?” Lori asked.
She glanced at Soren, but the man gave her nothing.
“Please, Judge, go on,” she said, stretching her crazy lady smile another few millimeters.
“Thank you, Birdie,” the man answered with a curious glint in his eyes before reverting back to judge mode. “Now, I think it’s safe to say that Lori has not only made her way into Tom’s heart but into all of our hearts. We only wish that your parents and grandmother could be here. But I’m sure they are in spirit.”
At the mention of her parents and grandmother, a lump formed in her throat. She stared at an empty bench. They could be there, sitting, smiling, basking in Lori’s bridal radiance. Her sister was the embodiment of the modern glowing bride.
“Thank you, Judge. And thank you, everyone. It’s an honor to join your family,” Lori replied softly, brushing a tear from her cheek.
The judge glanced at Soren, then turned his attention to the others. “We Abbotts also have someone who we wish could be here. I know my late wife Alice would have adored you, Lori. She was a straight talker, tough as nails, and the love of my life. And when I see Tom look at you, dear, I’m reminded of how I used to look at Alice.”
Bridget blinked back tears. This is just what her family would have wanted.
The judge turned to Lori and Tom. “Love is many things. It’s joy, and it’s sacrifice. But more than that, it’s a promise. A promise to love, to cherish, and to fiercely protect another’s heart.”
Soren went rigid. She could sense his body tightening, retracting, pulling away. A muscle ticked in his jaw. The man looked ready to crack a molar.
“Now, I don’t want to go on for too long. I need to save up some good bits for the actual wedding ceremony,” the judge added with a chuckle. “So, with our warmest wishes and thoughts of Lori’s family, I’d like to turn it over to Tom and Lori, who requested to address the maid of honor and the best man here in the chapel.”
“Us?” Bridget asked. Her emotions were all over the place. She was happy for her sister. She longed for her parents and grandmother. But overriding all that was the fear that something awful was going on inside the best man’s head.
Her heart hammered in her chest, but she had to keep it together.
“Birdie and Scooter,” Tom began, breaking into her thoughts, “Lori and I wanted to thank you both, here, in a place that means so much to us all now, and we have something special for you.”
She stole another glance at Soren, who remained stone-faced.
“You go first, honey,” Lori said, handing Tom a gift bag.
“I
s this going to get sappy?” Soren asked.
“Yeah, pretty sappy. Deal with it, dude,” Tom answered with a playful clap to his best friend’s shoulder before handing him the bag.
Soren held the item awkwardly.
“Open it!” Cole and Carly cried.
“Yeah, okay,” he answered, lost in a fog.
Slowly, he removed a picture frame from the bag, and his expression softened.
“I didn’t know you had this,” Soren said, staring intently at the frame.
She glanced over, expecting to see a photograph. Instead, a worn metal plate with the numbers twelve twenty-four engraved in the muted silver sat mounted in the center.
“What is it?” she asked.
For a fraction of a second, she would have sworn she’d seen Soren’s lip quiver. He held out the frame for everyone to see. “It’s a doorplate for a dorm room.”
“Thomas, did you steal that from boarding school?” Grace asked, a mix of incredulity and humor in her question.
Tom gave his mother a good-natured grin. “Steal is such a polarizing word. Hypothetically, if one jammed a ruler underneath a doorplate until it popped right off the wall, that wouldn’t actually be stealing. It would be revealing a design flaw.”
“Always the lawyer,” Russ called as everyone except Soren chuckled.
“Why did you take it? And why didn’t you mention it to me?” he asked, looking truly mystified.
“It was our first room together, and our first year at boarding school. I felt like I wanted to keep a part of it, and I was pretty sure if I told you that back then, you would have called me a p—”
“Tom! Kids,” Denise said, cutting off her brother.
Tom gave a quick salute to his sister, then turned back to Soren. “Here’s the kid-friendly version: it was the place where I met my best friend, and I wanted to remember it.”
Soren nodded, clearly moved by the gift. “Thank you, Tommy. This brings back a lot of good memories.”
“I’m glad you like it, Scooter. But I can’t take all the credit. It was Lori’s idea to frame it and give it to you. She’s thoughtful like that. You know that if it was completely up to me to get you a gift, I’d probably pick out a beer koozie,” Tom replied with another clap to Soren’s arm.
“This was your idea?” Soren asked her sister.
Lori waved off Tom’s praises. “Tom and I were going through some of his old boxes, and we found some of your old boarding school things in it. I thought it might make a perfect best man’s gift. That’s all,” Lori replied as that muscle on Soren’s cheek ticked again.
“It’s a very thoughtful gift. Thank you,” he answered, barely able to crack a smile.
What in the world was going on with him? Could it be the attention?
“And, Birdie, I have something for you that I’ve held on to for a long time, and now feels like the right time to give it to you,” her sister said, retrieving an envelope from the front bench.
“What is it?” she asked, but there was something vaguely familiar about it.
“Look at the handwriting,” her sister instructed.
Bridget turned the envelope over, and the breath caught in her throat at the sight of Grandma Dasher’s delicate cursive handwriting.
She ran her finger over the wrinkled surface. “But it’s addressed to you.”
“It is. But there’s a part in it that’s meant for you, Birdie.”
Her hands trembling, Bridget pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the emotion as a tear slid down her cheek. The letter her grandmother had left her didn’t have a special message for Lori in it. They’d never read each other’s letters either. But Lori had never mentioned that her letter contained a separate message.
She lifted the flap cautiously as if this letter were a portal to one last conversation with her grandmother. One last dance around the kitchen. One last offering of wisdom. She had no idea what her grandmother could want to convey all these years later.
She released a shaky breath, feeling all eyes on her when Cole’s shriek of a yelp sliced through the heavy silence.
“Pee! I have to pee so bad, Mommy! I can’t hold it much longer!” Cole cried.
Bridget blinked, pulled from the trance of the unexpected envelope, and slid the letter into the pocket of her coat as she went into crisis mode.
The tiny chapel didn’t have running water, let alone a working toilet.
“You didn’t pee before we left?” Denise asked.
The boy stood in the aisle, hopping from foot to foot. “No, I went to tell Uncle Scooter and Birdie it was time to leave. But Uncle Scooter was fixing Birdie’s eye again. He was looking at her real close like when you have to fish an eyelash out of my eyeball. And then we talked about bananas and pants, and I forgot to go potty.”
“There was flour in your eye?” Lori questioned.
Oh no!
“Yes, I must have gotten some flour in my eye, and Scooter was just…” she began, flailing like the awful fibber she was.
“Getting it out,” he finished.
“Yes, that’s right! Getting it out! Just like that.” she answered, like a moron.
“Sounds pretty crazy! Next time you have a flour emergency, you can call me, little lady,” Russ said, most likely in an attempt to be funny.
“Will do,” she replied, again with way too much go, team, go infused into her reply.
Score one point for the creepy uncle coming in handy.
“Mommies!” Cole yelled, clutching his crotch.
Denise patted her son’s back. “I’m sorry, everyone. We better go. Cole did drink a small cup of cocoa before we left, but I didn’t think it would do this.”
“And then he drank mine,” Carly added.
“And mine,” Scott chimed.
Denise eyed her son. “How much cocoa did you drink?”
“A lot!” the boy bit out, squinting his eyes, tightening every muscle in his little body.
Bridget checked her watch. “Everyone should go. The gondola seats ten. Scooter and I will stay behind and close up.”
“Are you sure?” Lori asked.
“We’ll be right behind you, and dinner should be ready any minute.”
“I’m going to pee an entire lake, and then I’m going to eat a little chicken!” Cole said as Nancy zipped the boy’s coat, and everyone quickly filed out to the waiting gondola.
The door banged shut, and she took a moment to pull herself together.
“Leave it to Cole to have a potty emergency,” she said, but Soren didn’t answer.
He stared at the framed doorplate.
“It’s a touching gift. I can see it means a lot to you,” she said gently.
He swallowed hard, the muscles of his neck straining. “I know what I need to do for Tom.”
She wasn’t expecting that. After his somber demeanor at the wedding rehearsal, she couldn’t read him.
“What do you need to do?”
He pulled his gaze from the door plate and caught her eye, then gave her the saddest smile she’d ever seen. “What a best friend should do.”
This must be him coming to peace with Lori and Tom’s marriage. A warmth settled in her chest.
“I should double-check that everything I need for tomorrow is in the storage closet,” she said, heading down the aisle to give him a moment.
He nodded as his gaze slid back to the framed plate.
There honestly wasn’t much to do. She straightened the garlands and arranged the candles. After a few minutes, she felt a rush of cool air and glanced at the door.
Soren stood at the entrance. “It’s a big night. We should head down. I can see the gondola making its way back.”
Look at him! Ready for a big night. She’d give him an even bigger night once all the festivities were over.
She joined him, and they rode down the mountain in a peaceful, easy silence, staring out at the winter wonderland all around them. Life had never felt so full of promise. A new man c
ombined with the newfound desire to take a leap of faith with her career had left her giddy.
“What are you thinking about with that big smile on your face?” he asked.
The mountain house came into view, and she sat back.
What was she thinking?
How her once predictably empty existence now felt new and exciting?
Yes, that was it, exactly.
“I’m thinking about…” she began, then stopped and cocked her head to the side.
“Yes,” he coaxed, but she couldn’t focus on his question.
The front door to the mountain house was wide open and flashing neon lights extended out onto the porch.
There was nothing about neon lights in her rehearsal dinner plan.
The gondola came to a stop, and she hurried toward the house. In the short amount of time they’d been up at the chapel, at least another few inches of snow had fallen. She lumbered through it, kicking up the white powder with Soren on her heels as music streamed out the door.
“Do you know what this is all about?” she asked, then stopped dead in her tracks as they took in the scene.
She glanced up at Soren and watched as the color drained from his cheeks.
Her sister and the Abbotts stood slack-jawed along with Delores, Dan, and Tanner while four young women, dressed in nothing but skimpy lingerie, gyrated and flashed cleavage as they danced around the Christmas trees. A neon strobe light flashed, and music boomed as Nancy, looking as shell-shocked as the rest of the group, scooped up Cole, then took Carly by the hand and ushered the children down the hall to their suite.
It looked like the rustic version of a seedy holiday gentleman’s club.
Bridget waved wildly to Dan and Delores. “What is this?”
Delores shook her head. “I don’t understand it at all. These ladies said they were paid to come here for the bachelor party. I told them they had to have gotten it wrong. But the dancer in the red number over there said they’d already been paid double to be here tonight for Tom.”
For Tom?
Bridget grabbed Soren’s coat sleeve as Tom pulled the cord to the strobe light, then turned off the stereo, and the room went dead quiet for a beat.
Not Your Average Vixen: A Christmas Romance Page 26