The Wedding Promise

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Kick? What does that mean exactly?” Claire asked curiously. “I hear it on the cooking shows. But is that really something you want food to do—kick you back when you bite into it?”

  Her interpretation of the term made Liza laugh. “You know what it means. You’re just pretending you don’t.”

  Claire’s eyes twinkled over the edge of her teacup. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  After their enjoyable break was done, they packed up the cooled muffins for the freezer. “I’m going to save a few of these for Daniel,” Claire said, as if reading Liza’s mind. “He does love them. Will he be coming back to work soon?”

  “He can’t work on the repairs with the rain. He’ll be back when it clears,” Liza told her. “Maybe I’ll just drop them off at his house. So they don’t get stale over the weekend.” Liza said this as casually as she could while she wiped off the table.

  If Claire guessed Liza’s secret agenda, she gave no hint. “Good idea. I’ll put the package right over here, next to the coffeemaker.”

  Liza just gazed at the package of muffins, her ticket to a much-longed-for visit with Daniel.

  You are obviously head over heels with the man, she told herself, if you were willing to spend a few hours in a hot kitchen just to create an excuse to see him.

  Was there still any question about that?

  CLAIRE left early that afternoon, soon after the kitchen was set back in order. Liza had a quick nap, a bite of dinner, then showered and changed. She didn’t want to look as if she had spent hours in front of the mirror. That would be too obvious. But she did want to look attractive. It was a fine line.

  She finally settled on a pair of good jeans and a peasant-style cotton top. She put on very little makeup, but she did blow out her hair and wore it loose.

  That will have to do, she decided. He’ll be so interested in the muffins, he won’t even notice the outfit.

  She headed for the far side of the island. The drive to Thompson’s Bend seemed shorter this time. Liza turned down Hasty Lane and soon arrived at Daniel’s cottage.

  His truck was parked in front, and the windows glowed with golden light. He was definitely in there, she decided, even though it was a Friday night.

  She suddenly lost her nerve and sat behind the wheel, undecided about actually turning the engine off. The paper bag of baked goods on the passenger seat beside her suddenly seemed a dangerous, even terrifying, sight.

  Was it too pushy to just drop over like this? Was she assuming too much?

  Liza took a deep breath, recalling how warm and even sweet Daniel had been acting toward her lately. There was no reason to think he wouldn’t be pleased to see her.

  After a few deep breaths, Liza gathered her courage again, shut off the engine, and got out of her car, taking the bag of muffins with her.

  She forced herself to walk up the path. It wasn’t raining any longer but the air was so heavy with mist, it might as well have been. Liza could actually feel her thick hair curling up around her face and brushed it back with her hand. She stood at the door, straightened out her blouse, then rang the doorbell and waited, practically unable to breathe.

  When Daniel didn’t come to the door immediately, she nearly dropped the bag by the door and ran back to her car.

  But then she heard the sound of his footsteps, and the door swung open. He stared at her, looking totally surprised.

  “Liza? Hey . . . what’s up? Is something wrong?” he asked with concern.

  “I’m fine. Everything’s okay,” she said quickly. Her voice came out a little squeaky, she realized. Like Minnie Mouse. Ouch. This was more awkward than she had imagined.

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment. His expression was unreadable. “Would you like to come in?” he asked, as if suddenly remembering his manners.

  “Um . . . okay. But I can only stay a minute.”

  Why did you say that? Even if he wants you to stay longer, he won’t ask you to now.

  She stepped into the foyer but stood near the door. “Claire and I spent the afternoon baking for the freezer. We made some muffins. She put them aside for you, and I thought I’d drop them off—so they wouldn’t get stale.”

  Now you’ve made it sound as if the muffins were from Claire.

  Does Claire want to date him, too? a chiding little voice asked her.

  Daniel took the bag and looked inside. “Banana Crunch, my favorite. Thanks. Thanks a lot. They look delicious.”

  He seemed pleased, yet something was a little off in his reaction. He seemed to be trying hard to say what he knew he should say, the things she wanted to hear. But she could tell he was really thinking and feeling something else altogether. He was honestly not that pleased to see her here and felt uncomfortable, even with his favorite dessert in hand.

  “Would you like to try these with me?” he asked politely, holding out the bag. “I’ll make some coffee or tea?”

  “Um . . . no. No, thanks. I think I’ve had enough for one day,” Liza said honestly. She quickly glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get going anyway,” she insisted, though she really had no other plans.

  “You do? Are you sure?” He didn’t believe her, she could tell. He knew very well that she had come all this way just to see him.

  But Liza stuck to her story. “I’d love to hang out, but I really have to go,” she insisted, feeling more embarrassed by the second. “Some other time maybe.”

  “Sure, some other time.” He met her gaze, his expression serious. “Thanks for the dessert. I appreciate it.”

  “That’s all right.” Liza tried hard for an offhand tone. “See you when the rain stops, I guess,” she said, heading for the door.

  “The forecast says it should stop tonight. So I’ll be by sometime tomorrow.” He followed her to the door and opened it for her.

  “Whenever you can make it is fine. I’m sure you have a lot going on besides my place,” she said, unable to look him in the eye. “Good night, Daniel.”

  “Good night.” Daniel stood on his porch, watching her walk to her car.

  Liza focused on starting up the vehicle and pulling away. She tried not to look back at him but couldn’t resist one swift glance. He stood on the top step in the porch light, his hands dug in his pockets. He looked thoughtful and sad. She had no idea why, but there was no other way to describe the expression on his handsome face.

  “What a dumb move that was,” she scolded herself out loud as she drove away. “You should have known that.”

  Maybe he was in the middle of something and was irritated by the interruption. Or maybe he just hated when people dropped by unexpectedly. Some people were like that. She should have guessed he would be that type.

  Whatever the reason, she had clearly overstepped his boundaries. When she thought again about his serious, sad expression it made her feel sad, too. And she didn’t even understand why.

  JUST as Daniel had predicted, on Saturday the sky was clear and the world bathed in hot sunshine once again. The change in the weather made no difference to Liza. It was still cloudy and dismal in her heart. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling tired and low.

  Claire was down in the kitchen and had already made coffee. Even though it was Saturday and there were no guests staying over, she had told Liza she would be by in the morning to work in her vegetable garden. Despite her own desolate mood, Liza was grateful for the company.

  She took a cup and sat at the table. Claire had set out a plate of muffins and Liza pushed it away, as if the innocuous baked goods were now the enemy and the source of all her disappointment.

  Claire, who was finishing her own cup of coffee, seemed not to notice the gesture. “I guess Daniel will start working again now that the rain has passed,” she said.

  “I saw him last night, and he said he would be back if there was clear weather.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  Claire was very adept at avoiding questions that might be too personal. But Liza found
that she wanted Claire’s opinion on the previous night’s disaster. The housekeeper had known Daniel a long time. Maybe she would understand why he reacted that way.

  “I brought Daniel the muffins last night. But he seemed annoyed or something. Not annoyed exactly,” Liza corrected herself. “He was perfectly polite. But it was awkward. I was sorry I went over there without calling him first.”

  “Perhaps you caught him in a bad mood.”

  “It seemed more than that. And Daniel doesn’t really have too many bad moods, at least not that I’ve noticed.”

  “I think Daniel is a very private person,” Claire said. “He’s not the type who enjoys unexpected company.”

  “Yes, I know. I should have realized that. I don’t know why I didn’t. Wishful thinking, I guess.” Liza sighed. “I thought we were past that. I must have been fooling myself.”

  Claire was quiet for a moment. She sipped her coffee.

  “Not necessarily. These situations are seldom a straight march forward. Usually, they’re more like a dance—one step forward, two steps back.”

  “Maybe, but it seemed more like Daniel was taking several steps back last night . . . clear out of reach,” Liza admitted. “You know him, Claire. What is it, really? Is he hiding something in his past that I should know about? I’m starting to worry.”

  “I think just about everyone on Angel Island has a story to tell, a reason that brought them here. Even you, Liza,” Claire reminded her. “As for Daniel, it’s up to him to tell you.”

  “Audrey said the same thing, more or less.”

  “You asked Audrey about him?”

  Liza nodded. “I was telling her about our date, and it just came out. All she would say was—”

  Liza suddenly felt her breath catch.

  Daniel stood in the kitchen doorway. She had no idea how long he’d been there. Claire must have left the front door unlocked, as she always did in the morning. Daniel was so accustomed to coming here, he rarely knocked.

  Liza felt sick to her stomach. What had she done now?

  “Daniel, good morning. I didn’t even hear you come in,” she said quickly.

  Claire glanced over her shoulder. “Hello, Daniel. Would you like some coffee? Help yourself.”

  “Thanks. I will.” He walked over to the coffeepot and filled a mug. Liza thought he sounded angry, but she couldn’t really tell for sure.

  He turned with his coffee in hand and gave her a look.

  He had heard the entire conversation; she was sure of it.

  “I just wanted to drop off a receipt for supplies.” He reached into his shirt pocket and left a receipt on the table. “I have some extra help today so we can catch up. I’d better get out there and get them started. See you later, ladies.”

  Then he walked out the back door without even glancing at her.

  Liza felt perfectly awful. She wanted to run up to her room, pull the covers over her head, and start the day over again, as if none of this had happened. In fact, she wanted to start from yesterday morning when she got the brilliant idea of surprising Daniel at his house—she desperately wanted someone to tell her what a stupid move that would be.

  If last night’s surprise visit hadn’t ruined everything, then this situation put the last nail in, she thought.

  Liza turned to face Claire. She had to ask. “Do you think he heard us talking about him?”

  “Perhaps,” Claire said honestly. “But Daniel’s a reasonable man. He might be mad, but he’ll get over it. Sometimes a situation like this can be a good thing,” she added. “It can get people talking to each other more honestly.”

  “Oh, Claire, you can find the bright side to anything,” Liza said.

  “That’s because the good Lord always provides one, if you look hard enough.”

  Liza didn’t answer. She wanted to believe that, but it was hard sometimes to be so positive. Like right now, for instance.

  IT wasn’t hard to avoid Daniel for the rest of the day. She had a lot of phone calls to make about the wedding, and she also had to make a trip up to Newburyport to pick up sample tablecloths for the Bennets’ approval.

  The bride and her mother had finally decided on the wedding colors. Jennifer had prevailed with her choice of creamy white, pale pink, and lavender. Liza quickly got to work on the decorations, flower arrangements, and table settings.

  As Liza drove back from Newburyport late that afternoon, she wondered if Daniel would still be at the inn. She hoped that he had left and she wouldn’t have to face him again so soon.

  But as she came up the drive, she saw him packing up his truck. There was no avoiding him.

  She grabbed the box of tablecloths from the backseat and headed toward the house. Daniel stood at the back of his truck, waiting for her to pass. She couldn’t tell from his expression if he was still angry.

  “How did it go today?” she asked, trying hard not to sound overly chipper.

  “Just fine. We made some good progress.” He glanced at her a moment, meeting her eye, then peered into the back of his truck and moved a ladder to one side. “How’s it going with you? What’s in the box?”

  “Tablecloths. A complete collection of samples for the Bennets to choose from.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Oh, it will be,” she replied in an equally dry tone.

  She waited, wondering if he was going to say anything more. He seemed so distant, it was painful to her.

  She wished she knew what to say. Her conscience suggested telling the truth. But she couldn’t get her nerve up to ask him point-blank if he’d overheard her conversation with Claire and was mad at her for talking about him, complaining about him, actually. She just couldn’t.

  “Daniel . . . ” she began. She paused and took a deep breath. “Are you okay? Is anything wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he said simply. “I’m just tired. I’m spreading myself too thin. I’ve taken on too many jobs, and the rain last week set me back.”

  She looked up at him. He did look tired but she knew in her heart, that wasn’t it.

  He knew it, too.

  “I need a good night’s sleep,” he said finally, his tone of voice still flat and distant.

  “Yes, maybe you do.” She didn’t know what to say after that. They seemed to be stuck in emotional gridlock. “Well, have a good evening,” she said after another awkward pause. “I’ll see you on Monday, I guess,” she added, realizing it was Saturday, and he could have asked if she was free to get together that night if he really wanted to.

  She turned quickly and headed for the house.

  “Good night, Liza,” he called after her. But she didn’t turn around again.

  Liza entered the inn and dumped the box of linens on the love seat in the sitting room. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Claire had left for the day, and there was no one to talk to. Liza considered calling Audrey, but she didn’t want to bother her and, in a way, she didn’t really want to talk to anyone right now.

  She just wanted to be alone and get a good night’s sleep.

  But Liza did not get a good night’s sleep. She didn’t get much sleep at all, wondering and worrying. She decided that when Daniel returned on Monday, she would take the initiative and confront him with an honest, air-clearing conversation.

  For better or worse. It had to be done.

  She had messed things up so badly between them already, it couldn’t get any worse. Could it?

  Chapter Eleven

  LIZA was up and dressed very early on Monday morning. She watched and waited for Daniel’s truck, unable to start any of her usual work at the inn until she settled this situation.

  Claire kept giving her curious glances, but Liza didn’t want to confide in her about this plan. Maybe when it was all over she would tell Claire that she had taken her advice.

  “Are the Bennets coming by this morning?” Claire asked.

  “Sylvia is coming this afternoon, to look at the tablecloths,” L
iza replied. She picked up her cereal bowl and placed it in the dishwasher.

  “Let me know if you’d like me to serve lunch, or tea,” Claire said. “It would be no trouble at all.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

  Just as Claire took out some cleaning supplies and headed upstairs, Liza heard a truck coming up the drive. She walked into the sitting room and glanced out the front window. Her pulse was pounding, as if she had just finished a series of sprints. But when she saw the truck, she breathed a bit easier. It wasn’t Daniel; it was his crew. They must be starting work earlier than he was today, she realized.

  She went to her desk in the little office area of the sitting room and got started on her own work while part of her remained tuned to the sounds outside. Over an hour later, when Daniel still had not arrived, Liza decided to go outside and ask his crew when the boss was coming.

  “Daniel won’t be here today,” one of his men reported. “He had to deal with some problem at another job, in town. Need to ask him something? I can call his cell phone.”

  “That’s okay. I was just wondering. I have his number if I need to call.” Liza forced a smile and returned to the house.

  This could be a coincidence. I shouldn’t panic, she told herself. Daniel told me he has a lot of work going on right now. Just because he misses one morning working here, it doesn’t mean he’s fallen off the face of the earth.

  She was dying to call him but stopped herself. That would be exactly the wrong thing to do right now. Just more of the same anxious behavior that’s gotten you into this mess to begin with.

  Liza wondered how she could distract herself from this latest distressing turn of events. She picked up the phone and called Sylvia Bennet.

  “Hi, Sylvia, it’s Liza. I have some free time this morning if you’d like to get together a little earlier than we planned.”

  “Good idea. There’s still so much to do, and it’s already June sixth, less than two weeks to the wedding, Liza. Can you believe it?”

  Sylvia was in fine mother-of-the-bride form today, Liza thought. Her voice rose higher with every word.