A Wedding At Two Love Lane

by Kieran Kramer

  Greer thought of Jill. Had Ella’s little sister been thinking about what she’d said? That she ought to go after her man, come hell or high water? After this weekend, they were going to sit together and make some real decisions about what to do. But Jill needed to figure out a plan soon, before the tech conference happened.

  “That’s right,” said Miss Thing. “Right now, Greer, you just enjoy being with your young fella. He makes me wish I were your age again. I hope you’re getting lots of nookie. Isn’t that how English people say it?”

  “They do,” Greer said. “I’m having a bunch of fun. My heart’s getting involved, but I’d rather not run and hide.”

  “That’s right,” said Macy. “Whatever happens, you will still be our strong, loveable friend and sister of the heart. You’ll always have Two Love Lane to come home to.”

  “What Macy said,” said Ella. “Arrivederci.”

  “Ciao, bellas.” Greer blew them all a kiss through the phone.

  Walking back to the house, she mused on how it was so hard not to tell Ella, Macy, and Miss Thing that she loved Ford outright. She just wasn’t ready. If she did, they’d ask her what kind of future she saw with him, and she didn’t want to go there.

  She also wished she could tell them about Jill’s romantic dilemma. Especially because Greer had a lot of hope for a good outcome, but it would be tricky getting there. But who knew? Maybe with Greer’s help Jill would find the courage to get on a plane and track down her business mogul, tell him she loved him, and have the happily ever after she deserved.

  “There you are!” Henny said when she walked in.

  Greer felt the tension before she even looked around. Kiki was prowling the kitchen, going back and forth with her phone to her ear. Maybe she was talking to Pierre. In the living room one of the two cameramen had set up his equipment and was fiddling with the blinds at one of the windows. He looked displeased about the lighting and asked Henny to adjust the slats while he looked through the camera lens, which was pointed at the fireplace. Greer caught a glimpse of the other cameraman outside, grabbing a last-minute smoke, his eyes narrowed in the sun.

  The TV station manager, in a gray suit and combed-back hair, was in the adjoining hallway consulting with the anchorman and anchorwoman hosting the announcement “party.” Pretty in pink, the anchorwoman held a sheaf of papers in her hand. Her fellow anchor wore a double-breasted navy suit. The three of them looked sharp and were studying those papers with serious expressions, occasionally whispering to each other.

  Toni sat on one corner of the sofa, her legs crossed, the top one kicking back and forth like a pendulum. Her fiancé sprawled with his arm behind her, a seemingly casual pose but for the deep furrow on his brow.

  Lisa sat next to him, clinging to her phone. Presumably, Buck would be able to get on FaceTime during the announcement, but one never knew with the military’s schedule. Lisa’s father, who’d made them all a delicious pot of Frogmore Stew for dinner Saturday night, was on her other side, his mouth in a taut line. He twisted his U.S. Marines ball cap in his gnarled fingers.

  Serena and Wesley stood at the piano, holding hands. Her face and neck had blotches of pink on it Greer had never seen before. Wesley was preoccupied with studying the painting over the fireplace mantel, but his free hand was gripped in a fist dangling at his side. They were together but seemed apart. Maybe Greer only felt that way because of what Wesley had confessed to her that afternoon.

  Ford was the only one who looked relatively relaxed. He held a drink in his hand. Only lemonade. The contest rules prohibited their drinking anything stronger. He looked fresh and masculine in nicely creased khakis—his new favorite style of trousers; he called them his Charleston pants—and a starched blue button-down. Loafers and no socks completed the look. He winked at her. “Have a nice walk?”

  “Yes, I did,” she said. “We still have another five minutes, right?”

  “Yes, but—” Henny grabbed her pearls. “But this is the big moment!”

  Greer felt abashed. “Sorry I worried you. I’m so excited to find out the outcome.” But inside, she wasn’t as worried about the contest results nearly as much as she was about Wesley and Serena. It wasn’t her business—but it was. Wesley had involved her. And she liked Serena. She hated to see her hurt.

  Kiki came from the kitchen. “All right, it’s time,” she said, never a barrel of laughs, which could be why she and Toni seemed to hit if off well.

  The anchors stood in front of the fireplace. Ford walked over to Greer and took her hand. At his touch, a feeling of utter happiness ricocheted through her.

  “I like your Charleston look,” she said with a grin.

  He grinned back. “Drake and Gus took me under their wing. We went to Dumas and Ben Silver. It took them a long time to convince me not to wear socks with my loafers.”

  She chuckled, and for the first time, felt a clutch of nerves.

  “You look wonderful yourself,” he said, “a real beach girl.”

  “Thanks.” She’d worn her favorite sundress for the occasion. She’d had it since before she’d broken up with Wesley. She’d bought it in her mid-twenties on a visit to Charleston for an alumni event at the College of Charleston and taken it back with her to Boston, where she spent one summer working at MIT, crunching numbers with a bunch of nerdy but fantastic teammates. They’d all been kicking ass in the math world. It was simple cotton, a pretty but now faded floral print, and it reminded her that she didn’t need to impress anyone as long as she was happy with herself.

  The announcement party went on for an excruciating but exciting fifteen minutes, the two anchors traveling between the couples, the roaming cameraman following them and panning from couple to couple, sometimes focusing on only one face at a time, depending on who was being asked a question.

  Did you enjoy yourself?

  Why do you deserve to win Royal Bliss?

  What does it mean to you if you win?

  If you lose, how will that change your wedding plans?

  They asked Greer and Ford, How did this temporary engagement go? Could it turn into something real? Any sparks this week? Or will you go back to being a partnerless future bride, Miss Jones?

  “We did what we said we would,” said Greer. “We worked together as partners to try to win the gown. It’s been tons of fun.” Oh, God, she was thinking. She was the worst liar. This thing with Ford had most definitely turned into something real.

  “Yes, but could you two possibly fall in love?” asked the female anchor.

  “We’re all for love,” said Ford. “Who isn’t?”

  Both anchors looked bemused by that answer. Greer wished she could be anywhere else but there. She was head over heels in love! No doubt about it. And it was painful to have to put on an act.

  “It’s been quite the adventure,” Ford said. “I don’t regret asking her to marry me in the least.”

  “Even though the plan is to move on after the contest?” the male anchor asked.

  “Yes, wouldn’t that sting?” the female anchor asked. “After all, you volunteered to be her partner so she could have a chance at winning.”

  Ford shrugged. “And she agreed to my out-of-the-blue proposal. Because of her, I’ve met some really great people in the contest and in Charleston. A world-class city, that’s for sure. Yet everyone acts like my next-door neighbor. I feel I could ask anyone here for a cup of sugar, and they’d say yes. And throw in a chess pie with it, to boot.”

  “Diplomatic answer, sir,” said the female anchor, her mouth curved up in a pleased smile.

  It most certainly was. Greer loved his sense of humor, his ability to be flexible. She loved him.

  The two anchors finally retreated to the fireplace. The cameraman with the stationary camera was already at work, beaming their faces to the local public watching on their television sets and online.

  Ford held Greer’s hand tighter. “It’s the moment of truth.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, every
cell in her body on high alert. She still wanted Royal Bliss. She wanted it very much. But even more, she wanted to tell Ford she loved him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The real moment of truth Greer longed for was to tell Ford she loved him—and she would do it that very night. She’d wait until they’d packed everything up and left the beach. And then in her apartment kitchen, she’d make him some pasta carbonara, the way Jill had for her true love, and she’d confess her feelings.

  She hoped he loved her, too.

  She wouldn’t think about the future. All that mattered was now.

  “There’s something I want to tell you,” he murmured in her ear. “Later tonight.” And then he squeezed her hand.

  She smiled. “Me, too.”

  And then they stood quietly waiting.

  The cameraman with the stationary camera kept it poised on the two anchors beneath the painting over the mantel. And finally, finally, the anchors got to the crux of the matter … who had won the La Di Da Bridal contest? Who would get to wear the exquisite gown Royal Bliss at her wedding and keep it forever?

  It would be something the winner could hold and touch, to remember her Perfect Wedding and the history associated with it! The fabulous royal story it came with, and the ones the winner would attach to it herself.…

  “The public has voted, the race was extremely tight, but they’ve chosen a winner,” the male anchor said.

  Greer held her breath.

  “And that winner is”—the female anchor smiled broadly—“Serena McClellan!”

  Serena gasped. Toni did, too. Lisa smiled and gripped her father’s hand. Greer felt a slow release of tension. She’d be okay. At least she knew that.

  “Dr. McClellan, you’ve won Royal Bliss!” the female anchor said in a loud, clear voice.

  With a happy cry, Serena turned to Wesley, who embraced her.

  And Greer felt nothing. That is, she felt okay. She wasn’t torn up about it. It was odd. She’d thought she simply had to have that gown to be happy.…

  Pierre would be ecstatic Greer had lost. So would Kiki. Ah, well, let them enjoy their petty revenge, Greer thought. She’d gotten a lot from entering this contest: new friends, a wonderful weekend with Ford. A sense that she could do anything she put her mind to doing, as she had in the bake-off. She smiled at the memory of the pink pegboard. Pierre would never be able to take those memories from her.

  Wesley unfortunately made eye contact with Greer. For a split second, she froze. He did, too. But she clapped. She clapped and smiled, and she did her best to not only appear to be a good sport but to genuinely feel happy for Serena.

  But how to do that when Serena’s fiancé had been so disloyal that very day?

  Serena accepted a lovely trophy of a woman clad in a bridal gown from Henny and thanked the TV audience. Wesley stood beside her, his arm around her waist. “Thank you,” she said to her fellow future brides, her eyes wet with tears. “I got so much more from this contest than this beautiful gown. I made new friends.”

  Exactly what Greer felt. And Lisa, too. It had been an amazing experience.

  It wasn’t Greer’s fault, what Wesley had done. It wasn’t. But she felt terrible, nonetheless. She felt guilty. Now she realized that the other night he’d been playing footsie with her on purpose. Maybe he thought she’d liked it! She hadn’t said a word because she’d believed it had been an accident.

  She should have spoken up sooner. Naïve, that was what she was. Naïve, and silly to have entered this contest, to have given up time at work for a gown. To have daydreamed about a gown—and not about what a wedding was truly about, the beginning of a day-to-day life of a couple who must always keep each other a top priority, who needed to communicate when things were going off the rails, as apparently they had with Wesley and Serena.

  But did Serena know?

  Greer clapped. And kept clapping. Ford did, too.

  “It’s okay,” he told her.

  “No, it’s not,” she said. She was worried about Wesley and Serena. And burdened by her unwitting part in the matter. She’d tell Ford later, and she’d ask him if she had in any way appeared to encourage Wesley that weekend.

  And then the cameras were turned off.

  The clapping stopped but not the talking. People were congratulating the couple.

  “Excuse me,” said Kiki. “Excuse me, please.” She strode rudely through the crowd, blocking Lisa and Toni as they made their way over to speak with Serena. Greer didn’t move. She knew she had to go over there, too. She was trying to find the courage.

  “Could you come with me and distract Wesley, please?” she asked Ford. “I-I want to congratulate Serena without him there. She’s right—we women did become friends.”

  “Sure,” Ford said, and eyed her in a way that made her realize he knew something was up.

  She’d told him as much when she’d denied that everything was okay. But she couldn’t explain, not right then. Later, she would.

  They began to walk—but not hand-in-hand. She was too agitated for that.

  “Everyone,” Kiki said, now at Serena’s side, “please be still a moment.” She raised her palms.

  The room quieted. No one moved. Serena was still smiling, but she appeared overwhelmed. Greer wasn’t surprised when Serena put her head on Wesley’s shoulder.

  Kiki glanced at Serena coldly—which Greer found shocking; something in her knew something was terribly wrong. She braced herself.

  Kiki lifted her chin. “It has come to my attention in the last five minutes that we have had some unethical behavior in the contest. But to interrupt the broadcast would have caused a great deal of dissatisfaction among the viewing public. And truthfully, there is nothing we can do. The winner stands as is, unless she forfeits her status. But…”

  Serena lifted her head from Wesley’s shoulder, her mouth agape. “Why would I ever forfeit my status?”

  Lisa’s brows were raised in puzzlement. Even world-weary Toni was wide-eyed.

  Greer looked at Ford. What could be the matter? He gave her a light shrug, as always, reading her mind. They’d have to wait to find out.

  Kiki looked at Greer. “The people who ran the contest didn’t know that Dr. Donovan”—Wesley’s new moniker—“was your former boyfriend, Miss Jones.”

  Lisa and Toni swung their gazes to Greer. Lisa’s eyes registered hurt. Toni’s jaw jutted out, and her eyes narrowed.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Greer said instantly. “He’s not anymore, and he hasn’t been for four years. He’s with Serena, who knows all about our former history. And I’m happy for them both.”

  “That’s a gracious statement.” Kiki tossed her hair. “But it’s come to our attention that today at the hoedown Mr. Donovan expressed his devotion to you, Miss Jones, not to his own future bride.”

  Greer blinked. How had they known that? Unless someone had overheard. But it had only been a matter of seconds. How?

  “Are you denying it, Miss Jones?” Kiki said. “Why would you? When you’re the one who told me yourself via text?” She held up her cell phone. “I have the message right here.”

  “I couldn’t have,” Greer cried. “I haven’t been using my cell phone. You said you just received the message in the last five minutes.”

  “You sent it about an hour ago,” Kiki said, “when you were outside. I only just now saw it. I was too busy preparing for the announcement party to check my texts.”

  Greer was flummoxed. “Show me that message.”

  Kiki held out her phone. The text read: I never told you this, but Wesley and I dated for many years. He came on to me at the hoedown. He said he’s getting cold feet and wonders if we should be back together. Someone needs to tell Serena.

  Greer couldn’t believe what she was reading. “I never sent this!”

  “Show me!” said Serena. “I want to see!”

  She looked down at Kiki’s phone, and her face turned beet red. “Wesley?”

  “What?” he said d
esperately.

  Kiki grabbed her phone back. “Incidentally, you came in second place, Miss Jones,” she said. “You and Serena were neck-and-neck.”

  But Greer didn’t care. She didn’t care at all. “What’s going on here? How did that text get on your phone?”

  “Greer?” Serena asked her in an urgent voice. “Is it true? What did Wesley say exactly?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t remember. But he never said he didn’t love you, Serena. He does.”

  Serena looked at Wesley next. “What did you say to Greer?”

  He winced. “Nothing. I mean, I said something very stupid. And I regretted it immediately and was going to tell her later what a mistake it was. I got caught up in the moment, and to be honest, I was panicked about getting married. I got cold feet. But I love you, Serena. I don’t love her.”

  Serena’s lower lip trembled. “What did you tell her?”

  “Serena, it was a mistake,” Greer said quietly.

  Wesley gripped Serena’s hands, but she yanked them away. “I told her I wondered if I should try to win her back,” he said, “but I don’t want to! I was being a fool!”

  Serena burst into tears. Then looked at Greer. “And you felt the need to share this with Kiki? Not with me? You want the dress that much? You were trying to sabotage me and Wesley? Because guess what, it worked.” She strode over to Greer and shoved the trophy at her. “I want nothing to do with this contest, or this gown, or any of you! I’m through!”

  And she stormed out the door to the back porch.

  Wesley ran right after her. “Serena!” he called. “Serena!”

  She ignored him.

  Greer watched in stunned silence as they disappeared down the stairs.

  With trembling hands she put the trophy on the piano and looked back at Ford. “I didn’t do this,” she said. “I never told Kiki anything. I’m not someone who would ever sabotage another person, no matter how provoked I was.”

  But his expression was grim.

  A horrible feeling coursed through her, part shock, part anger. “You don’t believe me, do you?”