by Liz Johnson
This small talk was already layered with more gravitas than her last three conversations with Russell. Of course, he was off introducing his friends to his brother and taking in the harbor sights. She hadn’t even tried to talk him into coming with her today. She’d even sent Courtney with him, refusing her help.
This was her last day of freedom. Her last day before everything changed. Her last day before the person she’d been could no longer be.
“Yes. What about you? What are you doing today?”
“Not much.” He shrugged. “Visited Connie’s grave. Left some flowers.” He shuffled a foot against the cement, suddenly looking a lot older than his fifty years. “Listen, Natalie, I really am sorry. I wish there was something more I could do to show you.”
“Well, you can stop apologizing. It—it grates on my nerves.”
He looked up at her through one eye. “All right.”
A terrible idea came to mind, and she wanted to clamp her mouth closed around it, but it popped out before it was fully realized. “And—and you can help me set up centerpieces.”
His fair eyebrows lifted, the pale skin of his face shifting in confusion. “You want my help?”
No, she did not. That was a mistake. A terrible blunder. She hadn’t meant to invite him at all. But the hint of a hopeful smile on his face pulled at her heart.
Could it really be that he had changed? Could God really make such a difference in a life?
Well, he had in hers, hadn’t he? He’d given her hope—in the form of a friend. When she’d prayed to be rescued that day as a child in the lighthouse, she’d wanted to be saved from everything. Perhaps carried on a wave out to another island, free from her parents and the life she hated. Instead God had brought her Justin, a little boy with a smile as bright as the sun and loyalty as deep as the ocean.
And he’d saved her. He’d kept her moving and growing. He’d shared his family and taught her what love really was.
So if, in her darkest place, God had rescued her, who was to say that God couldn’t rescue her dad too?
Before she could even respond to his question, he was bounding around the car, headed for the passenger door. “Anything you need, Natalie Joy.”
She trembled in the face of his enthusiasm, but she motioned for him to get in. The short drive was silent, save for the hum of the tires against the pavement. Her dad sat with his hands in his lap, drinking in the sights around them. When she turned off the road down the lane Justin had cut in the grass for her wedding guests, his eyes grew large, and he seemed unable to look away from the barn.
“Is this where you’re getting married?”
“Yes.” She got out and met him at the trunk, where she pulled out a large box of lamps and set it in his waiting arms.
“Got another one for me?”
“I’ll get the other.”
He nodded and walked toward the barn door. It was closed, but he pushed his hip against it, and it swung out, flooding the entry with light. “Wow.” His voice was low and filled with genuine wonder. “This is beautiful.”
She entered behind him, taking a moment to bask in the beauty she’d help to create. In the last three days, she and Caden—standing in for a still bedridden Marie—had hung string after string of twinkle lights across beams and as a curtain between the ceremony and reception areas. Tables were dressed in the same colors as the orchids to come. And burlap fabric served as the shore and was covered with seashells from across the island.
Even before the lights were turned on, it was stunning.
“Want to see something cool?”
“Sure.”
She set down her box, walked to the adjacent wall, and plugged in the extension cord.
The grand cathedral exploded with light, each of the thousands of bulbs shining and glowing and reaching as far as it could. All working together to build something greater. Something perfect.
“Whoa.” He whistled low and long. “That’s … that’s pretty amazing. You do all this?”
She shrugged. “Most of it. Yes.”
“I’m proud of you, kid.”
Suddenly her eyes burned and her lip trembled, and she hated herself for wanting to hear him say it again.
This father-daughter business wasn’t fair. It was supposed to be easy to hate him, to hold on to every disadvantage he’d ever forced on her. But all she wanted in this moment was to hear him say those words again, that he was proud of her.
Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, pinched her eyes shut, and picked up her box. “Can you put one on each table? Just a little off center.”
He did as she asked, saying nothing more as they walked from table to table. The kerosene lamp she’d loved at first sight found its way to the long table for the wedding party, and she set it right in the middle, between the two center seats. Tomorrow she’d be sitting on one side and Russell on the other. And they’d be married.
Forever.
Her stomach gave a gentle flop. It wasn’t an entire production, just a subtle nudge that perhaps this wasn’t the life she should have chosen. That perhaps she’d used the man now at her side as an excuse to ignore the one man she should have seen—really, truly appreciated.
“Do you have time for dinner tonight? I could take you to Grady’s.”
Ripped from her thoughts, she tried to catch up with his train of thought. But it was long gone. “Dinner?”
“I mean, I’d like to hear about your life. What have you been up to? What are you doing now? Are you happy?”
There was a hitch in the last word that tugged at her heart. “Am I happy?”
He nodded.
“I … I want to be.” Was that the best she could offer, the only thing she could honestly say?
Oh, what a mess she’d made. What a terrible lie she’d woven into the fabric of her life. She’d lied to herself, certain how very little her past informed her present.
She’d been wrong. So incredibly wrong.
The truth was that she was moving forward with a marriage to a man she wasn’t sure she really loved—a man she’d been lying to for years—because of the past. Because of what a handful of bitter old women might say.
She was so focused on Stella and Lois and their wagging tongues that she’d nearly missed the women who’d loved and cared for her in her mother’s absence. Women like Aretha and Mama Kane and assorted Sunday school teachers and Justin’s little sister. These women had been her surrogate mothers and siblings, the women who’d provided for and protected her.
Hanging her head, she pressed flat palms against the lavender satin tablecloth before her. Soft and cool, it did nothing to relieve the rush of heat and dread flowing through her. “I can’t go to dinner tonight. It’s my rehearsal dinner.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Dad?” She began the question but immediately lost its direction.
“Yes, Natalie?” He seemed to like calling her by her name, like he’d missed too many opportunities and wouldn’t let another pass.
“Have you ever made a mistake so deep that you can’t begin to fix it?”
His breath came out both stunned and mildly amused. “Do you remember who you’re talking to?”
Oh. Right. Of course he had.
“So what am I supposed to do?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, as though inspecting each of the individual lights in the curtain that divided the sacred from the social. “I suppose you do the next right thing. You can’t change the past, but staying on the same course is only going to compound the problem. No drunk ever made a better life by having one more beer. No bad father ever salvaged a relationship with his family by turning his back on them one more time.”
He wasn’t talking about her anymore. These were the changes he’d made, the next right things he’d done.
But could she be as strong?
“What if the next right thing will hurt people you care about?”
“I suppose that’s where prayer and mercy come i
nto play. You pray you’re making the right choice, and then you beg for mercy.”
“And you’ll stand over there.”
Justin turned to look at the corner Caden had pointed to. Picking up his guitar, he trudged in that direction, all the while trying to stop the voice in his head screaming that this was the wrong decision.
But he didn’t have another option. He couldn’t have both. And he certainly wasn’t going to get Natalie.
She’d made her choice.
When he reached his spot, he turned around to face rows of nearly empty white chairs. Adam sat in the front row, his arm draped across the back of the seat beside him. A handful of Russell’s Nashville friends mingled in the back, including at least two other music industry professionals and a musician Justin had heard on the radio more than once. Russell stood next to Father Chuck in front of a makeshift cross—two beams that Justin had put together because he knew how much Natalie had wanted to be wed in the church. Lois and her special helper, Stella Burke, hunched over the last row of chairs, trying to rig up a way to hang the flowers that were supposed to be on the ends of the pews.
From her spot in the middle of the aisle, Caden directed the whole ordeal. “All right. Can I get the groomsmen up front?”
Adam and Patrick, one of the other music producers, took their spots behind Russell, slapping him on the back and joking with him while Caden’s back was turned.
She pointed at Justin. “When I cue you, you’ll begin. Go ahead.”
Justin nodded and picked out the slow notes that wove together into “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring.” It was the only classical piece he knew by heart, and Natalie hadn’t argued for anything else. Maybe she just hadn’t wanted to argue at all. Or even talk, for that matter. Their conversation about the ceremony music had lasted exactly twenty-three seconds.
Slowly the maid of honor strolled down the aisle, her hands holding an imaginary bouquet, her chin high and eyes alight.
He tried to smile, his view of her walk perfectly angled. But deep in his heart, he knew what was coming next. And he wasn’t sure he was prepared. In fact, he was certain of that.
But it didn’t stop Natalie from finding her place at the end of the white runner. Her head bowed slightly and brows partially furrowed, she looked uncertain. The round skirt of her navy blue sundress tipped like a ringing bell he could nearly hear. All of her fiery hair was swept up in a knot at the nape of her neck except for one waving tendril, leaving her long, slender neck on display. And he could practically feel the smooth skin there.
He’d never seen anything quite so beautiful in his entire life.
His fingers slipped as his mind wandered, and he jarred himself back into the notes of the song.
Maybe it was his mistake that drew her attention. Maybe it was something more. But when she looked up, she didn’t look at Russell or Adam or Father Chuck. She looked straight at Justin.
His stomach tanked.
Her eyes were so clear, the ocean completely still. But there was a hesitancy there. A fear. As though she was begging him to tell her it was all going to be all right.
But he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do any of this.
He’d been so busy telling Natalie to stop lying to herself that he’d failed to notice he’d been doing plenty of that himself. His dreams weren’t on equal footing. Music wasn’t on par with Natalie. Not even close. He’d convinced himself that he’d be satisfied with one and not the other.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
He wanted her. He wanted their life together. He wanted her to get angry with him and see her eyes turn to ice, then to have her melt into his embrace when she forgave him. He wanted all of her passion and spice. He wanted to wake up next to her every morning for the rest of his life.
Because he just wanted her. All the things she’d tried to hide from Russell. All the things she’d tried to hide from him. All the years they’d shared and the ones they’d lost.
He wanted it all.
His heart began thudding in his ears, its tempo unstoppable and unrelenting.
This was his decision to make. And he sure as heck wasn’t going to play at her wedding while she promised herself to another man.
His feet were moving before he even stopped playing, and he reached her in a few short strides. When he stopped, they were barely a foot apart. He longed to reach for her, to tell her how he really felt, but he wasn’t so selfish. He’d made his decision and she’d made hers. And they’d both have to live with it.
He took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” And he did what she’d done to him fifteen years before.
He walked away.
21
Every eye in the room was trained on her. Natalie could feel the physical weight of their curiosity. All was silent except for the sound of Justin’s boots marching out of the barn and the hushed whispers of Lois and Stella. The low words walked around her chest, tightening a rope there and tugging on it until her breath was gone. A cold sweat broke out across the back of her neck. They were clearly speculating on the words Justin had just whispered to her.
She was once again the favorite topic of gossip. And for good reason.
He’d said he couldn’t do this. And she’d frozen. But a little voice inside her said he’d meant so much more than playing at the wedding. Maybe he couldn’t watch her marry someone else because he loved her and always had.
Her heart leapt, hope a balloon that could carry her through this. It would have to carry her through. The pointed glances and rooms falling silent whenever she walked into them didn’t matter. Justin had always been the answer to her prayers. And she prayed he would be again.
Do the next right thing. Her father’s words echoed inside her, the truth in them breaking the ice that had settled over her at Justin’s announcement.
She stared at the whispering women, biting her lip and trying to figure out what to do with them. Shut them down or let them talk?
Either way, this story was going to make its way around town in record time. Every schoolgirl within a hundred kilometers would know how little Natalie O’Ryan had turned out to be every bit as scandalous as her parents.
She could waste time. Or she could get to doing the right thing.
“Russell,” she said, reaching out a hand toward him. “We need to talk.”
He loped toward her, his frown evident but not truly upset. “Where’s Justin going? Patrick was just saying how good he is.”
“We need to talk. Somewhere private,” she added this time.
“Talk? Natalie? What’s going on? We can’t leave our friends.” His gaze jumped toward Lois and Stella, whose disapproving glares hovered. “Can’t this wait until after the rehearsal?”
She almost said yes. She almost reverted back to the way she’d always gone, the path of least resistance with him.
But that wasn’t the path to being the woman she wanted to be. In fact, it led straight to the life her mother had lived. And she’d fight tooth and nail to keep from having the same fate.
Tugging on his hand, she pulled him in her wake. “Excuse us just a moment.” She waved to the room filled with perplexed faces. Only Caden smiled, small but encouraging.
She could do this. She had to do this.
Outside the stars shone like a million twinkle lights just for them. The moon too seemed intent on lighting their way, illuminating the confusion on Russell’s face. “Natalie, what on earth is going on? We have guests waiting for us and a caterer setting up. What’s so important that it won’t wait until after the dinner?”
Smoothing her hands down the full fabric of her skirt, she took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology. I haven’t been honest with you.”
“What?” It came out more of a laugh than a question. “What are you talking about? We all tell white lies. It’s no big deal. There’s no reason for all this drama. We should go back inside before we’re missed.”
She shook her
head hard enough to cut him off. “You don’t love me.”
“Of course I—”
With a wave of her hand she stopped him again. “You can’t love me because you don’t know me. I’ve been pretending to be someone that you could love for a long time.”
“We’ve been together for three years. I think I know you.”
“You don’t.” The back of her throat began to itch, a sure sign that tears were on their way, and she rushed to get the rest out before she completely broke down. “You can’t. Because I never told you that when I was a child, my mom—”
Oh, God, help me.
This was so much harder than she’d thought it would be. Even back when she’d been too afraid to tell him the whole truth.
But Justin had called her brave for leaving on her own when she had. And she’d be brave again.
“My mom used to neglect me. And starve me. When she did pay attention to me, she beat me.”
His mouth dropped open, and his eyebrows closed the gap to become one.
But she couldn’t stop or the words might dry up. “And my dad was the town drunk and philanderer. He cheated on my mom for as long as I could remember. I didn’t leave the island because I was looking for adventure or to get away from small-town life. I left because I was terrified that staying here would mean becoming just like them, just more fodder for town gossip. I thought that marrying you would save me from wagging tongues and speculations about my personal life. And I wasn’t fair to you. I wasn’t fair at all.”
He blinked once, but the stunned expression on his face didn’t abate. “But why didn’t you tell me? You could have …”
She didn’t let him continue for long. “I’ve been pretending to be someone I’m not, holding back the person I really am since the very beginning. I was so afraid you might not love me if you knew that sometimes my temper gets the better of me. It’s not my best quality, but it is mine.”
He interjected again. “But I’ve never seen you even get angry.”
Her heart ached. Her head ached. Her entire body screamed for this to end. But there was more to say, more to confess. “You’ve never seen me angry because I’ve never let you. I picked the path of least resistance with you because I thought that’s the type of woman you’d love. And I wanted you to love me. I thought you wanted someone poised and together, someone who could plan and host parties for your clients. Someone to put on a good face.”