by Sarah Morgan
Maggie was a fraud, and these jeans were her punishment. “Most people forget to make the most of those small moments.”
“But you don’t.” Catherine reached across and touched Maggie’s arm. “We barely know each other, but I’m going to say this anyway and hope you don’t think I’m odd—I find you inspirational.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you! Why so surprised? You have a wonderful daughter who is open, friendly, intelligent and warm. I know how important Christmas is to you because Rosie told me all about your traditions, and how much you all love this time of year. Most women would have felt resentful and unhappy being dragged away from their home at such a special time, but instead you decide to treat it like a second honeymoon. I want to help in any way I can, so don’t hesitate to tell me how I can make the trip extra special. Candlelight dinners? Too cliché perhaps. You can do that at home.” Catherine frowned. “Snowshoeing can be romantic. Let me think about it, but I promise you, Maggie, this is going to be a Christmas you’ll remember forever.”
Maggie wasn’t about to argue with that part.
She had no idea how to unravel the tangled mess she’d made.
Couple time. Oh Maggie, Maggie...
“You’re very kind.” Because she had no idea where to take the conversation next, she focused on the scenery. Mountains rose all around them, and fresh snow gleamed under a perfect blue sky.
“I love that Rosie comes from this warm, stable family. As I say, about half the weddings I arrange, at least one set of parents aren’t speaking. It plays havoc with seating, I can tell you. And the photographs look terrible if people are glaring. I had a couple from Texas last month who refused to stand next to each other—the parents, mind you, not the bride and groom. I wouldn’t want to be spending Thanksgiving and Christmas with that family.”
Would that happen to her and Nick?
Would they gradually start to hate each other?
Maybe it would be easier if they did hate each other. Maybe then it would at least make sense.
As it was she often lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, and tried to work out where and why it had gone wrong. It was a puzzle she couldn’t solve and that, somehow, made it harder to accept.
“Do you hold the weddings in the lodge itself?”
“Sometimes. In the winter it’s magical because we have the room at the back and with the lights and the glass it makes an intimate venue. In summer, people often prefer to be outdoors. We can cater for an elegant wedding, but if someone wants a more rustic theme I’ll sometimes use one of the local ranches.”
“Rustic?”
“Yes, but then they often want animals—not that I don’t love animals, because I do, but generally I prefer people to do what I say on the day so that things run smoothly, and animals tend to follow their own agenda.”
Maggie laughed. She hadn’t expected Catherine to be so much fun.
And she hadn’t expected to be able to laugh at wedding stories, when her marriage was on its last legs.
“People want animals at their wedding? What type of animals?”
“Sometimes a much-loved family pet. A couple last summer wanted their dog to carry their rings. Unfortunately, the dog was overexcited by all the people and carried the rings off down the valley. We had to improvise.”
They were on the edge of the town now, and Maggie had never seen anywhere prettier. Tiny lights edged roofs and windows, so that every building seemed to sparkle. Even the lampposts, rising up from soft mounds of snow, were wrapped in fairy lights and adorned with large red bows.
“It’s pretty. Festive.”
“This is nothing. I can’t wait to show you more of the place. We’re going to park here, and then walk. You’ll love it. It may not be home, but we do Christmas well, I think. Hard not to feel festive when you have piles of fresh snow to play in. But the town puts on plenty of activities. You can do everything from decorating a gingerbread house, to listening to live jazz. People think it’s a glitzy place, but there’s also a bit of a country vibe. We’re mountain folk.”
Rich mountain folk, Maggie thought as she climbed out of the car and noticed the number of designer stores. Did they even sell clothes for people on normal budgets? “How do you improvise a wedding ring?”
“I carry spares,” Catherine said. “And I’ve had to use them on more occasions than you’d imagine. But that’s the business. There are always challenges. One bride had her own horse and wanted it in the photographs. That worked out better than you might think. And the horse matched the color scheme perfectly. And then there are the llama weddings, of course.”
“Llama weddings?”
“It’s a growing trend. On the one hand llamas are quite calming which can be useful, particularly if there are young children involved, on the other hand they also have a nasty habit of eating everything in sight, including the wedding cake on one occasion.”
“What happens in the photographs?”
“You have a bride, a groom and a couple of llamas.”
“Are the llamas married, too?”
Catherine laughed and locked the car. “No, but they’re definitely in a relationship. I’m the first to admit that the whole thing is more country than classy, but it works for some.”
Maggie thought about Rosie’s asthma. “Please tell me Rosie and Dan aren’t having a llama wedding.”
“No. Rosie wanted something simple.”
That didn’t sound like Rosie at all. She was wildly romantic. Maggie would have expected something over the top. Not llamas, of course, but something dreamy. But perhaps the time frame didn’t make that practical.
“It’s kind of you to organize this at such short notice.” She felt stupid for ever feeling jealous. Rosie was lucky to be marrying into such a charming family.
“It’s my pleasure, and I mean that literally. There is nothing I love more than arranging a wedding, and when my son is marrying the girl of his dreams, then it becomes my dream, too.” She slid her arm through Maggie’s. “What sort of wedding did you and Nick have?”
The ache was back in her chest. “A simple one. It was the two of us, in a small church in Oxford, with my best friend as a bridesmaid and Nick’s closest friend as best man. We were married in winter and the church was freezing, so we exchanged vows as quickly as possible before one of us developed frostbite.” And laughed the whole time and kissed. Nick had tried to thaw her frozen hands by tucking them under his jacket, then made indecent suggestions of how they could both warm up. “Afterwards we went to the pub with the whole of his department.”
“Your family didn’t attend?”
“Nick’s mother was there, although I don’t remember her smiling much. He never knew his father. My parents didn’t approve, so they refused to come. At the time I was miserable about it, but looking back on it I can see it was probably the best thing. A few more people might have warmed the church a little, but I can’t imagine they would have added much to the proceedings.”
“Why didn’t they approve?”
“They thought we were too young. And they didn’t understand Nick’s career. They thought he was too cavalier and adventurous, and that he needed to get a proper job. He’s an Egyptologist.”
“I know. Rosie says he’s super smart. She showed us a video of him lecturing on YouTube. She’s very proud of her dad. Your parents weren’t proud?”
“They died soon after we married so they only knew him at the beginning, before he’d made a name for himself, but they didn’t understand an academic career. They thought it was a frivolous thing to do. Not a proper job. They were worried he wouldn’t be able to support me.”
“You didn’t work?”
They strolled together through snow and even with a pounding head and a mountain of anxiety, Maggie was charmed.
The whole trip was turning out much bet
ter than expected, if you ignored the discomfort she felt from not telling Catherine the truth.
“I worked in academic publishing. Still do.”
“What a smart pair you are. No wonder he married you.”
Maggie didn’t feel smart, particularly when she was with Nick. She tended to listen rather than talk, conscious that anything she said would be boring compared to his tales of the desert. He was a natural storyteller with an ability to embellish each anecdote and hold the attention of an audience. It was the reason his lectures were always standing room only.
“We understood each other. We both wanted to create the sort of family neither of us had growing up.”
“Rosie tells me you have the most darling cottage.”
“Yes.” Maggie thought about the cottage, standing dark and empty over Christmas. She felt something close to guilt, and decided that was ridiculous. A house couldn’t feel lonely. What she was feeling was nostalgia for all those wonderful Christmases they’d spent in the cottage. “It’s a special place. I hope you’ll visit.” She said it to be polite, not because she genuinely thought it would happen. How could it? She wasn’t going to be living there next year.
“What did you wear?”
“For my wedding? We didn’t have much money, and my parents refused to pay for what they saw as a mistake, so I found something in a nearly new shop and told myself it was vintage. Talking of which, you must tell me how much you’ve spent on Rosie so that I can pay you back.”
“Not at all. This wedding is my gift to them. So, tell me, did you lose your baggage on purpose?”
“Excuse me?”
“On purpose. Lost baggage is a fabulous excuse for shopping, isn’t it?”
How was she supposed to answer that? Maggie decided that she might be lying about her marriage, but she wasn’t going to lie about anything else. “I don’t completely love shopping. I never find things I like, and I often find the process intimidating.”
“Then you’re going to be so happy you met me. Shopping is my superpower, and we have arrived at my favorite boutique.”
Maggie took one look at the outside and knew she wouldn’t be able to afford more than a pair of gloves. “I think this might be outside my budget.”
“Don’t worry. I send so many people here, they let me have the clothes at cost.”
She propelled Maggie into the welcoming warmth and greeted the woman who was hovering. “This is my dear friend Maggie. She’s Rosie’s mother—can you see the resemblance? Same eyes and the same beautiful skin. She needs a whole new wardrobe because the airline lost her baggage.”
The woman’s face lit up even as Maggie’s heart sank. She was going to have to sell Honeysuckle Cottage to pay for this.
“My case might arrive. I only need a few things.”
“Let’s see what leaps out at us, shall we?” Catherine trawled the clothes like someone on a mission, picking up a dress here and a sweater there. Black pants, a couple of shirts, a cashmere poncho, a coat with a fake fur strip on the hood. She was a force to be reckoned with. Trust me, you will look great in this.
With considerable difficulty Maggie removed the jeans and wriggled into the black pants and a fitted roll-neck sweater in a completely impractical shade of cream. Neither were things she would have chosen herself. She tended to wear tunics that covered all the bits of herself that she didn’t like. She tried to reject a soft wool dress with a hint of sparkle, but Catherine insisted it would be perfect for Christmas Day. Her powers of persuasion eclipsed Maggie’s reluctance.
Was this what she’d been like with Rosie choosing a wedding dress?
Maggie took a breath and forced herself to look in the mirror.
“Oh.”
“What?” Catherine opened the door to the changing room. “Well, hello, gorgeous. That sweater is perfect.”
“I don’t usually wear skinny sweaters. I’m too fat.”
“Fat? Don’t be ridiculous. You look fabulous. Although you could lose a couple of inches from your hair. Or maybe we scoop it up into a messy bun—” She slid her fingers into Maggie’s hair, twisted it and secured it with bobby pins extracted from her purse. “I like it. Put some makeup on.”
“I don’t have any.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. It’s in your missing suitcase?”
“No, I don’t usually wear much. Lipstick occasionally.”
“You don’t—?” Catherine looked stunned. “We need to fix that. Do you know what we’re going to do together while you’re here? A spa day. Hair. Nails. Makeup. Girly chat. Maybe a glass or two of champagne while we get to know one another better.”
Maggie’s brain was still throbbing from the last glass of champagne. “I’ve never had a spa day.”
“Really?” Catherine went from stunned to faint, but she recovered swiftly. “How do you pamper yourself?”
“Er—I read in the bath?”
“That doesn’t count. I can’t believe you’ve never indulged in a spa day. We’re going to change that.” Catherine flashed her a smile and handed over the coat. “Try this. Your face will look so cute peeping out from the fur.”
Maggie, who was sure she’d never looked cute in her life, put the coat on. “What do you think?”
“Perfect. And it will keep you warm while you’re here. When you go out on the snowmobiles, or for a husky ride, we’ll lend you something more substantial.” She took the coat back. “You don’t need much makeup at all, you have excellent skin. You obviously use sunscreen.”
“I work indoors in a windowless building half the time, so that’s its own kind of sunscreen.”
“I’m starting to understand why you don’t love your job. Now let’s try on a few more things.”
Each outfit Maggie tried, Catherine was there to pass opinion, but to be fair she had a good eye.
Before she could overthink it, Maggie handed over her credit card.
Shopping had never been fun, but this was fun.
Or maybe it was Catherine who was fun.
“What about nightwear? If this is a second honeymoon, then you should dress accordingly.” Catherine studied Maggie for a moment and then grabbed a selection from the rack. “Black would drain you. Try ivory.” She handed over a sliver of silk with straps that crossed at the back.
Maggie had never worn slinky nightwear. The only way to survive Honeysuckle Cottage was by favoring sturdy brushed cotton over silk.
“This isn’t practical.”
“What you wear in the bedroom should never be practical.”
Maggie closed the door and stripped off again.
If she bought this, Nick was going to think she’d gone mad.
She was definitely going to say no.
She eased it over her head and it slid down to midthigh. Maggie stared at herself.
With her hair tousled and her lips red, she looked—she looked—
“Oh boy, oh boy, you look super sexy in that.” Catherine gave a slow smile as she peeped around the door. “Nick will not be able to resist you.”
Maggie was fairly sure Nick had no problems resisting her. If he did, he wouldn’t have moved out. They hadn’t been intimate for—how long? The fact that she couldn’t remember said a lot.
What if he saw the nightdress and thought she was trying to seduce him?
It would be unspeakably awkward.
She did not need a slinky nightdress, and she was going to hand it back to Catherine right this minute.
Keeping it would be nothing short of ridiculous.
Katie
Katie plowed her way through the crowds at the airport. Elbows dug into her ribs and Christmas gifts with sharp corners bruised her legs. A baby howled in misery and she turned instinctively before remembering that his welfare wasn’t her responsibility. She was off duty. Today she wasn’t a doctor. She was just
another person going home for the holidays. Except that in her case, this wasn’t her home. And technically she was on sick leave, not vacation.
The throng of people made her feel uneasy and anxious. Maybe she should have taken those antidepressants instead of shoving the prescription into her purse.
A woman in front of her shrieked and sprinted toward a man with scruffy hair and an eager expression who swung her into his arms.
What must it be like to be greeted like that?
She was probably never going to find out. Unless she got a cat.
Should she get a cat?
No. She was already responsible for the lives of too many living creatures. Did she really want to add another to the list?
And what would it do when she worked long hours? It probably wouldn’t even be pleased to see her when she walked through the door. It would be like Vicky, disapproving of her lifestyle choices.
She tightened her grip on the case and walked past the couple, trying not to listen.
I love you.
I love you, too.
In that moment, their lives seemed perfect. Katie hoped there was nothing grim waiting for them around the corner. That single, dark thought annoyed her.
What was the matter with her? Was she really so warped by her job that she’d forgotten good things happened to people, too? People fell in love, babies were born, friends were made. Some people went through their lives without ever needing the services of the emergency department.
She had enough insight to know that her vision of the world was distorted.
Being a doctor in emergency medicine was like peeping through a window at a crisis. You saw a glimpse of someone’s life, but never the whole picture. She rarely saw this reality. There was a businessman striding through the crowd, talking on the phone as if the people around him didn’t exist; a couple hugging; a little girl balanced precariously on a suitcase.
And she saw smiles. People who were pleased to see each other. People who didn’t live their lives waiting for a disaster to happen.