Daughters of the Bride

by Susan Mallery

  David joined them. “If we get married here instead of in St. Louis, we’ll have to talk to you, Courtney. You know all the ins and outs.”

  “You’re thinking maybe of St. Louis?” she asked, surprised.

  David nodded. “Or a destination wedding. We haven’t decided.”

  Courtney watched her sister as he spoke. Sienna was smiling, but there was a trapped look in her eyes. Or maybe Courtney was imagining things. She saw Rachel arrive and excused herself.

  “Hey, you,” she said as she hugged her older sister.

  “Hi, back. Wow—the room looks great. I can’t wait to try everything.” She patted her stomach. “I walked two extra miles yesterday and today, so I’m not going to think about calories.”

  “You’ve lost weight, though. I can tell. You look great.”

  “Thank you. I hate to say this, but I’m feeling better. What a nightmare. What if everything they say about exercise is true? What if I have to do it forever?”

  Courtney laughed. “There are worse things.”

  “Really? Like what?” Rachel pointed to the bar. “I want a cocktail. Lena dropped me off and Mom and Neil are taking me home, so I can indulge.”

  “You do that. I’m going to get everyone to the table, where we’ll discuss how the evening is going to go.”

  Once everyone had drinks and had found a seat, Courtney explained how the evening would work and what they would be tasting.

  “I have note cards and pens for each of you,” she said, pointing to the paper at each place setting. “Go ahead and rate the food. There’s also room for comments.”

  “Like what?” Maggie asked.

  “Things like ‘I like it, but it’s hard to eat and I’m afraid I’m going to spill.’”

  “Guests hate that,” Sienna said. “No one wants to trash their good clothes.”

  Courtney had been bracing herself for a crack about “pulling a Courtney” and was surprised by the support. “You’re, um, right. So we’ll go in the traditional order of the meal. Appetizers, soups and salads, entrées and desserts. Portions are very small so we can sample as much as possible.”

  Her boss walked in with two trays. Courtney hurried over to help her. Joyce settled next to Maggie as Courtney passed around the tray.

  “Caprese sticks,” she said. “Grape tomatoes, mozzarella with basil and a balsamic reduction. If you like the flavor but not the presentation, we can do it in appetizer spoons. We can also replace the bruschetta topping with a chopped version.”

  Maggie took a bite and moaned. “These are fantastic. Neil, darling, you have to try one.”

  “I’ll try two.”

  They continued with appetizers and worked their way through soups and salads. While everyone was eating, Courtney set out wineglasses. Sienna counted.

  “There are six glasses. We can’t have that much wine and drive.”

  David nodded. “I have to agree.”

  “We’re tasting, not drinking,” Courtney told him. “Two whites and four reds, all from Joyce’s favorite winery.”

  Joyce laughed. “I think you’re going to be happy with Courtney’s suggestions for tonight. They’re delicious and they all have charming names that seem perfect for the wedding.”

  “Really?” Maggie looked intrigued. “Like what?”

  “Rebel Red and Goodie Two Shoes pinot noir.” Courtney grinned. “The labels are so fun that we don’t have to worry about leaving out the bottles. The guests will love looking at them. Look, Mom, the pink Goodie Two Shoes label even matches your color scheme.”

  She held up a bottle.

  “Middle Sister Wines?” Sienna said, raising a glass. “I like it already!”

  Rachel leaned toward Courtney and muttered, “I wonder if the winemaker has a middle sister complex, too.”

  Courtney hid a smile.

  “It’s an intriguing story, actually,” Joyce said. “The winery is named after the middle daughter of one of the founder’s best friends. She said the girl is larger than life, a free spirit. I always felt the same way about you, Sienna.”

  “Thank you, Joyce.” Sienna stuck out her tongue at her sisters.

  “Don’t worry about drinking too much,” Rachel said. “Greg’s off tonight. He has Josh. I’ll call him and he can give everyone a ride home. You can pick up your cars in the morning.”

  Courtney met her sister’s gaze and raised her eyebrows. Really? She and Greg were getting along that well? Obviously, there had been a shift in their relationship.

  Courtney leaned close as she poured the first wine. “We are so talking later.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” But Rachel blushed as she spoke.

  Courtney brought out trays with various entrée choices. She set a small ramekin in front of her mother, who wrinkled her nose. “What is this?”

  “Chicken and spinach.”

  Maggie turned to her. “I hate spinach.”

  “I know, so I was surprised when you checked it off on the menu list. Remember? We texted about it.”

  “I suppose it sounded good at the time.” She sighed. “Fine. I’ll try it, but I won’t like it.”

  Neil kissed her cheek. “I’ve always admired your maturity, my love.”

  Courtney didn’t have much time to sit and eat, but she was pleased that everyone enjoyed the choices. Well, except for the spinach and chicken dish, which her mother didn’t want on the menu. They decided to start with an antipasto platter of olives, roasted peppers and marinated mushrooms, paired with Drama Queen pinot grigio. For the entrée, guests would have a choice of steak paired with Rebel Red or grilled salmon paired with the Goodie Two Shoes pinot noir. They would top off the evening with a bubbly toast.

  So far, so good, she thought, pleased to be nearly finished.

  Coffee—both regular and decaf—was delivered right before the desserts. Sienna got up and poured herself a cup.

  “This is going really well,” she said, her voice laced with surprise. “You’re not just filling in here and there, are you? You’re actually planning weddings. Or at least this one.”

  “Sometimes,” Courtney hedged. “A couple of summers ago one of the wedding planners got sick and I helped out. I liked the work and I know everyone at the hotel. It makes sense for me to coordinate.”

  Sienna studied her. “What else aren’t you telling us?” she asked.

  Joyce interrupted then, saving Courtney from having to make up something.

  “What are you two girls whispering about?”

  “I was saying that Courtney’s doing a great job with the wedding. It’s nice to see.”

  Joyce’s look was pointed. “Yes, it is.”

  Courtney smiled tightly, then returned to the table. “Desserts should be here any second. We have six choices.”

  Rachel groaned. “I’m already stuffed. I don’t think I can taste dessert.”

  “You have to rally,” Maggie told her. “I need everyone’s opinions.” She looked at Courtney. “Did you think any more about that massage school?”

  Everyone turned to look at her. Sienna frowned. “Why would you go to massage school? You’re working here.”

  “She needs more,” Maggie said. “She’s a maid.” She held up a hand. “That’s not bad, but, Courtney, honey, you could be so much more.”

  Neil touched her hand. “Maybe this isn’t the time.”

  “I know.” Maggie shook her head. “I’m feeling the wine. I’ll stop. I promise. It’s just I worry about you.”

  Courtney wanted to snap that she didn’t. Not really. What she worried about was being proud of her daughters. Of being able to say something other than “my daughter’s a maid.”

  She told herself to take the high ground—to let it go with a smile.

&nb
sp; Joyce walked over and set her cup of coffee on the table. “Tell them.”

  Courtney held in a groan. Seriously? Her boss chose this exact second to break ranks?

  Maggie looked between them. “Tell me what?”

  “Nothing. Where are those desserts?” Courtney eyed the house phone by the door. “Let me check on them.”

  “Courtney Louise Watson, what is Joyce talking about?”

  Ack! What was it with mothers and that stern tone? Her stomach clenched, her throat tightened and she felt about ten years old again.

  “Mom, I’m fine,” she said. “I love my job here. Let it go.”

  “Mom, stop.” Rachel got up. “I’ll get you some coffee. Neil, talk to her. This is a nice evening. Let’s leave it that way. Courtney, you’ve done an excellent job. Congratulations.”

  Courtney dashed to the phone and dialed the kitchen. One of the servers picked up.

  “We know, we know. One of the trays got dropped and we’re trying to fix things.”

  Of course, she thought grimly. Because life was always about timing. “Bring what you have. Quickly, please. I beg you.”

  She turned back to the room, only to find her mother had cornered Joyce.

  “What do you know?” her mother asked the other woman.

  “We have a dessert crisis,” Courtney said quickly. “But we’ll have some samples to taste any second now. Mom, I know there’s mousse, assuming it’s not on the floor. Won’t that be good?”

  She was afraid she sounded frantic, mostly because she was. It was one thing for her boss to not volunteer information, but to lie when asked directly was another thing. Courtney got that. She also recognized the trouble had started with Joyce’s comment, which left her in the unusual position of being angry with Joyce.

  “There’s something,” Maggie insisted. “What is she keeping from me? What do you know that I don’t? Dammit, Joyce, we’re talking about my daughter.”

  “Don’t try that tactic on me, Margaret,” Joyce snapped back. “I’m sure you care, in your way, but you’ve never really been there for Courtney and we both know it. Of course she keeps secrets from you. Why wouldn’t she? But in this case, I wish she wouldn’t. If you knew what she’d done, what she’s doing, you wouldn’t treat her like an idiot. Because she’s not. She’s a smart, capable woman.”

  The room had gone silent. Even the canned music had faded to faint background noise. Courtney couldn’t decide if she wanted the desserts to arrive or if it was better that no one she work with witness what was going to be one of her life’s great disasters.

  Her mother looked at her. Tears filled her eyes. “What’s going on? What are you keeping from me?”

  Anger was easy to resist, but hurt was something else. She could tell herself she hadn’t done anything wrong, that they didn’t deserve to know, but she wasn’t sure she could make herself believe that. Not in her heart.

  “I don’t want to be a massage therapist,” she said quietly. “Or a vet tech or any of the other jobs you’ve suggested over the years. I want to run a hotel.”

  “Go on,” Joyce prompted. “Tell her what you’ve done.”

  In for a penny, she told herself. “I got my GED, then my AA. I’m two semesters away from getting my bachelor’s in hotel management.”

  Joyce moved to her side and put her arm around her. “There’s more. She just got invited into a special class. That’s how much her instructors think of her. She’s a straight-A student, and most of her college has been paid for by academic scholarships.”

  Maggie took a couple of steps back, reached behind herself and felt for a chair, then sank into it. Her face was white, her eyes wide.

  Rachel stared at her. “You never said a word.” She sounded breathless and hurt. “All this time, all the things we did together. You never hinted.”

  Courtney’s stomach twisted and guilt filled her. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t understand. I didn’t plan this. It just kind of happened. I wanted to get my GED and surprise everyone. Then I kind of signed up for community college and decided to wait and see if I could really get my AA. When that happened, I wanted to be able to show you all what I’d done. I wanted to be able to hand you my degree.”

  Not hand it to them, she thought to herself. Throw it at them. She’d wanted proof that she wasn’t what they thought.

  “But you’ve been doing this for years,” her mother breathed. “You’ve kept this from us for years. We’re your family and you didn’t tell us any of it.”

  She covered her face with her hands and started to cry. Neil rose and hurried to her. He crouched down and put his arms around her.

  “I’m sure you had your reasons,” he told Courtney. “But you’ve hurt your mother.”

  “You’ve hurt all of us,” Rachel said. She stood. “I’m going to call Greg to come get us.”

  Sienna stood up. “What’s wrong with all of you? So she didn’t tell us. Look at what she’s done. Courtney, good for you. You did the work and you have a lot to show for it. Mom, you have to see, this is a good thing. Courtney’s not the loser you thought. She’s going to be fine. I’m proud of her, and you should be, too.”

  No one said anything. Courtney knew she had to figure out something to explain or make the situation better, but she couldn’t think of what. She wasn’t going to apologize. She hadn’t done anything wrong. But her mother was in tears, Rachel was upset and the tasting dinner had turned into a disaster.

  “You should be proud of yourself,” Joyce told her.

  “I wish you hadn’t said anything.”

  “It was time for them to know.”

  “That wasn’t your decision to make. This was between me and my family. I wasn’t ready.”

  Her boss didn’t look the least bit contrite. “Based on how things were going, you were never going to be ready, dear. I just gave you a little push.”

  “You didn’t have the right.” She walked toward Rachel.

  Her sister glared at her. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it. My God, Courtney, I’ve tried so hard to help you. All these years. I thought we were close. I thought we were the kind of sisters who could depend on each other. I can’t believe how wrong I was about you.”

  She walked out. Maggie and Neil followed. Sienna and David stood, as well. Sienna paused.

  “They’ll get over it. You’ll see.” Sienna hugged her. “You go, girl.”

  Courtney nodded because she couldn’t speak. Shock and guilt and a sick feeling combined into an impossible emotional stew. Joyce left with Sienna and David, leaving Courtney standing alone in the center of the room. Two seconds later one of the servers walked in with a tray of desserts.

  “Where is everyone?” he asked. “Are we still tasting these?”

  Courtney shook her head. “Not tonight.”

  18

  QUINN WAS SURPRISED to find his grandmother and her dogs at his front door so early in the morning. He was just back from the gym and was about to start coffee.

  For once, Joyce wasn’t perfectly groomed. She looked tired and wasn’t wearing makeup. Based on the dark circles under her eyes, she hadn’t slept well. He stepped back to let her into the bungalow. Her two dogs followed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you all right?”

  She twisted her hands together. “The tasting dinner didn’t go well.”

  He knew that Courtney had worked hard to get the menu right. He’d helped her with the wines, and they’d talked about how she wanted the evening to go. He’d thought she might stop by afterward, but he hadn’t heard from her. He’d assumed she’d been tired and had gone to bed.

  “What happened?” He took her arm and led her to the sofa. “Tell me.”

  She perched on the edge of the cushion. Sarge and Pearl sniffed
around the room before Pearl jumped onto one of the club chairs. Sarge joined her and they curled up together.

  Joyce briefly closed her eyes. “I think it might be my fault.”

  “Why?”

  “Her mother wanted to talk to her about massage school. We both know that’s not what Courtney wants to do. I know that she wanted to wait to show them her degree, but enough’s enough. I said to tell them what she was doing.”

  Quinn’s sympathy faded. “You told them?”

  “Why are you saying it like that? I was only trying to help.”

  Love for his grandmother blended with frustration and worry about Courtney. “It wasn’t your secret to tell.”

  “I didn’t.” Joyce raised her chin. “Not exactly.”

  “If that’s true, why are you here so early in the morning?”

  Her lower lip began to quiver. “You’re mad at me.”

  “No, I’m disappointed.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I love you. Nothing can change that. But you were wrong and you know it. I’m not going to tell you otherwise. The person you should be talking to is Courtney, not me.”

  “I c-can’t.”

  “Then I will.”

  He left the bungalow and headed to the hotel. He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance that Courtney had started work, but he went to the fourth floor anyway and knocked on her door.

  She answered almost immediately.

  She had on her usual maid’s uniform, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were tired, her mouth drooping.

  When she saw him, her shoulders pulled back a little. “If you’ve come here to plead Joyce’s case, I don’t want to hear it.”

  He stepped into the room. As she moved back, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

  “Why didn’t you text me or come by?” he asked.

  She sagged against him. “I needed to cry, and no guy wants to deal with that.”

  “I can deal with anything you have going on.” He kissed her again. “Next time I want to be there. I don’t care what time it is. Understand?”