Unleash Me: Wedding (The Unleash Me Series)

by Christina Ross

  He took me into his arms and said in my ear, “What you did kept this family together. What I would have done would only have blown it apart. So, thank you for having the guts to stand up to her again. I apologize for everything she’s put you through—and I’m sorry she might never see in you what I see. But my father sees it, and I’m grateful for that. Because of the way you handled his wife, he will at least be able to see his son get married. And that wouldn’t have been the case if I’d gotten involved, Lisa. My father would have been a gentleman and taken his wife’s side, even if he disagreed with it. He wouldn’t have come to the rehearsal, to the dinner, or to the wedding.”

  Before I could speak, he took my face in his hands, kissed me meaningfully on the mouth, and then smiled at me. “Thanks for coming clean with me.”

  “I had to. I acted out of anger and asked my friends to be my allies, and because they love me and were angry for me, they assisted me. I owe you an apology, and I also owe one to Blackwell and Jennifer. I was so angry with your mother that I felt victorious when she took hold of those flowers. But since then, I knew I couldn’t get married to you without coming clean with you first. Tank, what I did was wrong—”

  “I disagree,” he said, interrupting me. “Look, Lisa—big picture, OK? Yes, my mother will look like a mess for a couple of days, but she’s lucky. She’ll recover from her allergic reaction to those lilacs. But if you hadn’t done what you did, what would have become of us? Would we have been able to recover from her? I don’t even want to think about that, so I say that she deserved it. She’s been shut down—she now understands just how far you’re willing to take things with her, and because of that and the tape, I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about her again.”

  “Do you think she knows that I’m behind the lilacs?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “She totally knows.”

  “Fuck. Did she say anything to you?”

  “She can’t exactly speak right now, but her eyes told me she knew. And there was fear in them—fear of you.”

  “But that’s the thing,” I said. “I never wanted her to fear me. Jesus, Tank!”

  “She brought it on herself, Lisa. Karma kicked her in the ass. What you need to know is that I’m fine with it, because my mother needed a wake-up call.” He gave me another kiss and then slapped me on the ass. “But that’s enough of that,” he said. “You and I have a wedding rehearsal to go to and then a rehearsal dinner to attend.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “So, how about if we get showered? You know—together.”

  “I love you, Tank.”

  “I know you do, Lisa—you show your love for me, and for us, time and again. I’m just happy that my mother hasn’t frightened you away, because that would have killed me.”

  “Not happening,” I said to him. “Come tomorrow, you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said. “Now—let’s take that shower.”

  “Why do I think we won’t just be showering?”

  “Because I’m also marrying you for your intelligence. Now get in here.”

  With a wild sense of relief, I did.

  ***

  When it came time for the wedding rehearsal, Ethel McCollister was a no show, which was either a sign that she truly was ill—or that she was punishing Tank and me for what I’d done to her.

  I wasn’t sure, and I really didn’t care.

  Because the lack of her presence and her judgment made the proceedings go more swiftly and smoothly than they would have under her watchful glare.

  With the help of our priest, Father Harvey—a tall, kind-looking man with a shock of white hair and a quick wit I liked at once—we went through the rehearsal twice while our friends either participated or looked on from the front row of seats. After an hour or so, we had it down, and it was nearly time for the dinner itself.

  “Tomorrow’s going to be quite the something!” I heard Epifania say.

  “Tell me,” Blackwell said, “exactly when do you plan to learn proper English?”

  “Probably when you land yourself a man, lady.”

  “Then I guess I shouldn’t hold my breath for that to happen anytime soon.”

  “Why sell yourself short?”

  “Darling, please—it’s the men I’m selling short, not me.”

  After Tank and I thanked Father Harvey for his help and guidance, Tank started to speak with his father, Alex, and his groomsmen while I went over to confer with Jennifer and Blackwell, who were sitting in the first row of chairs.

  “You look fab,” Blackwell said. “J’adore the dress.”

  “Of course you do,” I said. “You’re one who picked it out for me.”

  “Which is why j’adore it.”

  “I need you both to listen to me while I have the chance.”

  “How positively mysterious of you…” Blackwell said.

  “This is serious. Please listen.”

  I told them that Tank knew everything.

  “He knows?” Blackwell asked. “Perfect. Because of your loose lips, now I’m in the goddamned doghouse when it comes to him. Thank you for that, Lisa. Consider my wedding gift to you revoked.”

  “He’s not angry at all,” I said. I looked over my shoulder and saw that Tank had his arm around his father’s shoulders while Alex laughed and clapped him on the back. They were still happily engaged, which allowed me more time than I’d thought I’d have. “Let me tell you how it went down, which will clear everything up for you.”

  And so I told them. Everything.

  “Well,” Blackwell said. “I do admit that right now things don’t look quite so bleak.”

  “Tank’s amazing,” Jennifer said. “He always has been.”

  “Nothing short of a prince,” Blackwell agreed.

  “I’m glad you came clean with him, Lisa,” Jennifer said. “It was the right thing to do.”

  “My conscience got the best of me, as it always does. As time passed, I knew I had to tell him, if only because I couldn’t go into this marriage with this massive lie hanging between us.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “You couldn’t. But I’m glad he has your back. I’m glad he sees his mother for who she is.”

  Blackwell narrowed her gaze at me. “This isn’t over yet,” she said. “What if dear Ethel doesn’t show for the rehearsal dinner—or the wedding itself?”

  “I can see her skipping the dinner,” I said. “I mean, we all got a good look at her when she ran into the house. But after several doses of Benadryl and a good night’s rest? She’ll be at the wedding.”

  “You see, I’m not so sure about that,” Blackwell said. “In fact, I think you need to prepare for the worst—not for the best—when it comes to this. I agree with the dinner—after the three of us cast the black plague upon her, I can see why she wouldn’t come. But if Ethel chooses to skip the wedding, she’ll only be doing so to underscore her contempt of you and her disapproval that this wedding is even happening. If she goes that far, just think about what Tank’s friends and family will think of you then, especially when she’s already warned many of them against you, like her sister, Margaret.”

  “What are you saying, Barbara?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? If she doesn’t show tomorrow, you are going to be scrutinized and vilified by a hostile crowd on your wedding day, especially if Ethel is sitting in her bedroom right now working the phones in an effort to poison her friends and family further against you. I’m not telling you this to frighten you, Lisa. I’m telling you this so you can be prepared for any fallout. Ethel McCollister doesn’t strike me as a woman who likes to lose, and the only thing she has left in her arsenal is the power of influence. You and Tank will get married tomorrow as planned, but I have to wonder under what conditions—especially if she plans to throw you straight under the bus.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When we retreated to the tent closest to the house, Harold went inside to check on Ethe
l, telling us he’d be just a moment. When he returned, it turned out that Blackwell had been right. Through him, Ethel had sent her regrets that she sadly wouldn’t be coming to the rehearsal dinner or the wedding due to her “questionable health.”

  “Forgive me,” she’d written on a card Harold read to us as we sipped glasses of champagne, “but my severe allergic reaction to those flowers has struck me down to the point that I’ve become bedridden. Please know that I wish my son and his bride the best tonight and tomorrow. I’ll be thinking of you with only the warmest of thoughts.”

  “My mother the martyr,” Tank said angrily, reaching for my hand.

  We were standing just inside the tent, which had been festooned with a host of towering flower arrangements on cloth-covered tables and lit with soft amber lighting from the antique bulbs strung above us. Since there were only sixteen of us—actually, fifteen without Ethel—I’d chosen to go with a massive round table placed in the center of the tent so all of us could dine together instead of sitting at smaller separate tables. Soon, servers from the catering company we’d hired from Lincoln would start to offer the hors d’oeuvres.

  “She’s playing us, Lisa,” Tank said. “Don’t let her get to you, because I’m not. If she doesn’t show tomorrow, that will be a stain on her for the rest of her life.”

  I told him about Blackwell’s concerns.

  “She could make things very uncomfortable for us,” I said to him. “Especially for me if she turns your family and her friends against me.”

  “I’ll handle it,” he said.

  “How?”

  “Let’s not worry about that now. Just know that I’ll take care of it.”

  “OK,” I said. I lifted my glass of champagne to him, and we touched glasses. “Here’s to our last night of being single,” I said.

  He sipped his drink. “And cheers to that. I only wish we’d done this sooner. But we’re here now, aren’t we? In a couple of days, we’ll be in Bora Bora, and then we can plot out the rest of our lives together.”

  “I love you, Tank.”

  “I know you do, and I’m grateful for it. I only hope you know that I love just as much, if not more.”

  I looked up at him, saw the love in his eyes, and knew that he did.

  Despite everything that’s happened this week, Tank and I will be fine. We just need to get through the rest of it.

  “Before the hors d’oeuvres and dinner are served, we should spend some time with my parents,” I said. “They don’t know many people here. I don’t want them to feel excluded.”

  “Lead the way.”

  “Hi, Mom and Dad,” I said as we walked over to them.

  “Lisa,” my mother said as she took me in her arms and hugged me. “I was just telling your father how pretty you look in that dress.”

  “How do you like yours?”

  “I love it,” she said. “But come on—what’s not to love?”

  My parents didn’t have much money. And because so many of my friends did, I’d wanted her to feel comfortable at the rehearsal, at the dinner, and also at the wedding. Several weeks ago, I’d called her and asked her to go to Bergdorf’s website. After some gentle coaxing on my part, together we’d chosen two dresses and two pairs of shoes.

  “They’re my gift to you,” I’d said. “For always being there for me, especially when some mothers are never there for their children.”

  “You’re talking about Jennifer now, aren’t you?” she’d said to me.

  “I am. I won the lottery when it comes to you and Dad. Jennifer wasn’t so lucky. So please, let me spoil you a bit. It’s the least I can do, considering all you’ve done for me.”

  And now, Gert—which was short for her full name, Gertrude—not only was wearing a lovely Carolina Herrera butterfly-print dress in white and gold but had gone on her own to a new stylist and requested her first professional color and manicure. With her blond hair curling just above her shoulders, I thought that now, at fifty, she looked more vibrant and alive than I’d ever seen her.

  “You know,” my mother said, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so glamorous—at least not since the day I married your father.”

  “I’ve seen the photos,” I said. “You looked beautiful on that day, Mom. And I’m happy that you like the dress. It looks great on you. How do the shoes fit?”

  “I’ve never worn such footwear in my life,” she said, raising her right foot so I could admire the gold Dior sandals on her feet. “I mean, look at them! They’re amazing.”

  “They’re as amazing as you are,” I said.

  “Allow me to second that,” Tank said.

  “Come here and give your future mother-in-law a kiss,” my mother said to him. “Because Al and I are over the moon that you’re about to become a member of our family, Tank. We couldn’t have asked for a better son-in-law.”

  As Tank gave my mother a peck on each cheek and then turned to my father to shake his hand, my heart swelled. This is how our wedding should be—with people who were genuinely happy for us, not working against us. As I watched Tank interact with my parents, I was reminded that there were plenty of people here who not only were rooting for us but wanted only the best for us. By getting into my head, Ethel had distracted me from all the love that surrounded Tank and me now. And I couldn’t allow her to do that, because despite her best efforts to make me feel otherwise, I was the luckiest woman in this room.

  “How are you, Dad?” I asked as I moved over to him.

  When he embraced me, I smelled the familiar woodsy scent of his cologne—which sent me back to my youth, since my father had always smelled like this. Albert Ward was my mother’s age, but because he’d lost his hair in his twenties, he looked slightly older despite his cheerful face.

  “Proud of my daughter,” he said. “And happy for her. On the flight here, I got to thinking about all that you’ve accomplished since you and Jennifer left Maine for Manhattan. Look at the success you’ve had with your books. And now, look at the man you’re about to spend the rest of your life with. You’ve never disappointed us, Lisa.”

  “I’ve tried not to.”

  “Well, you haven’t. Not by far.”

  “Are you ready to walk me down the aisle tomorrow?”

  “If you’d chosen someone other than Tank, I might have had my reservations. But I have none.” He looked at Tank. “It’s going to be my pleasure to hand my daughter over to you.”

  “That means a lot to me,” Tank said. “Thank you, Al.”

  “Thank you. Now, look,” he said, turning to me. “You two should mingle. Don’t worry about your mother and me. We’ll be walking around and introducing ourselves to everyone.”

  “I agree,” my mother said. “Go and have fun with your friends. Scoot!”

  “They’re the best,” I said to Tank when we stepped away from them.

  “They are,” he agreed. “I wish I had your mother.”

  “But don’t you see?” I said as I wrapped my free arm around his waist. “Now you do.”

  ***

  Half an hour before dinner was served, Tank went to spend time with Alex and Cutter while I went over to talk with Jennifer and Blackwell. All had a glass of champagne in hand and were admiring one of the flower arrangements.

  “Don’t take too deep a whiff,” I warned as I came upon them. “I can’t have either one of you down for the count. Ethel is enough.”

  “She’s a heathen,” Blackwell said. “Announcing that she wouldn’t show tomorrow was downright cruel.”

  “And ridiculous,” Jennifer said. Tonight she was wearing a gorgeous red dress, her hair in an updo, and I thought she looked as graceful as she did stunning. “Still, after all she’s put you through, Lisa, you’re better off without her there—unless Tank feels differently. I mean, she is his mother, after all. Where does he stand?”

  “He’s angry,” I said. “When dinner is over, I think he’s going to have a few choice words with her. She’s supposed to walk him down the
aisle tomorrow. Who’s going to do it if she won’t?”

  “I will,” Blackwell said. “In fact, I’d be honored to.”

  “I’ll let him know that, Barbara. Thank you for offering.”

  “It would be my pleasure, because as everyone knows at this point, I consider Alex and Tank to be my surrogate sons.”

  “Just like you’re my surrogate womb,” Jennifer teased.

  “While that doesn’t have the same ring to it, darling, I do appreciate the sentiment.”

  “Looky, looky, it’s the cookies!” I heard Epifania call out. “Epifania about to crash your party!”

  I looked over my shoulder as she started to come toward us, and I had to give it to her—Epifania had dressed appropriately for the event. Instead of looking like a sex siren, she looked fresh, pulled together, and chic. She was wearing a stunning Naeem Khan short-sleeved, fringed cocktail dress that fell just above her knees. It was gold, shimmery, and elegant, with a beaded front and a tiered silhouette that complimented her curves. As for jewelry, she only wore diamonds at her ears and a large diamond solitaire on her left ring finger.

  Which caused my mouth to fall open when I saw it.

  “Epifania,” I said as she joined us, “is that what I think it is? Are you and Rudman engaged?”

  “Oh, holy to the moly,” she said with a thrill in her voice. “Yes, we are! But you weren’t supposed to notice it just the yet. I been trying to hide it from you, because this your weekend—not mine! The attention should be on you!”

  “I don’t care about any of that,” I said, giving her a hug. “I’m so happy for you! You’ve waited years for the right man to come along, and Rudman is the perfect man for you. I think all of us here would agree on that.”

  “He’s totally the man for her,” Jennifer said.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Blackwell said. “Rudman loves Epifania. Parts of me are still trying to process how that can be, of course, given her sordid past. But I nevertheless know that he does.”