A Mother's Wedding Day

by Rebecca Winters; Dominique Burton

  Chapter Eight

  After the aides put Andrea’s aunt in the wheelchair, she pushed her out to the covered patio to enjoy the warm, fresh air. No one else had come out here yet. The pots of purple and pink petunias were a welcome sight. Her aunt’s pneumonia seemed to be hanging on, even with the help of oxygen. Maybe the flowers would give her spirits a boost.

  Andrea pulled up one of the patio chairs next to her and sat down. Though her aunt never spoke and didn’t know her, she grasped her hand and held it. “I’m sorry you’re so sick. I wish I knew how to help you.”

  Right now Andrea’s life was a desert. Already she couldn’t stand her new second-floor apartment, which felt enclosed after the open spaces on the Roussillac winery. The only thing going for it was that it was within walking distance of the small studio Nancy had found for her.

  By now Andrea would have thought Max might call and ask her to see him again, if only to continue where they’d left off, but it hadn’t happened. Leaving the vineyard had been the hardest but wisest thing she’d ever done. It was past time to free herself from him.

  “Oh, Aunt Edna…” She pressed her aunt’s hand to her hot cheek. “You know that phone call from Sammi I’ve been waiting for since I moved to Napa? Well, it has never come.” The tears started again. “She hasn’t forgiven me. She never will. When I e-mailed her about the move, I promised that the same room she’d had at the cottage had been recreated at the apartment and was waiting for her.

  “She e-mailed me back this morning. There was no mention of her coming home. All she said was that she was finishing up an unexpected assignment in the Maldives, then flying straight to Alaska. I should have contacted Chris’s parents and told them everything. I’m afraid I’ve really lost my daughter. The damage I did was too great. I’m the worst mother who ever lived.”

  The tears kept coming. Andrea tried to stifle them when a family she recognized came outside, pushing their grandfather in a wheelchair. They nodded in her direction.

  She squeezed her aunt’s hand before putting it back on her lap. “You know what? You need to lie down. We’ve been out here long enough. I’m afraid I have to go.” She turned the wheelchair around and took her back to her room.

  “Tomorrow’s my grand opening. It’s not a very big gallery, nothing elegant to compete with others in the area, but at least my paintings have been uncrated and are on display. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow and tell you all about it.”

  She kissed her aunt’s cheek, then found Judy in the hall to let her know Edna was back in her room. With the promise to return, she hurried out to the car.

  Brad Warshaw had asked her to lunch and would be coming by the studio for her in an hour. That barely gave her enough time to make it back to Napa. Since she’d been setting up her new studio and gallery, she’d seen quite a lot of him. While she worked in the back room, producing the tiles needed for the Casa Bonita, he’d insisted on helping hang her paintings.

  His designer’s eye had made the best use of the space and Andrea was very grateful for his help and his company. It kept thoughts of Sammi and Max at bay.

  When she’d called Steve to invite him to the opening, he had put Helen on the phone, and the three of them were able to say what was in their hearts. Andrea found out Max had gone back to San Francisco to deal with important banking business he’d left too long. She had asked them to extend an invitation to their son.

  She heard happiness in their voices. If she had done one thing right in her life, it was to make that phone call to Max telling him his father needed him. Since then a miracle had happened to the de Roussillac family.

  Would that one could be granted to her and Sammi, but Andrea held out little hope. For that to happen she needed to have been a different kind of mother from the beginning. Somehow she just kept making things worse.

  To add to her pain, Max was well and truly out of her life.

  AT FIVE TO SEVEN Saturday evening, Max found a parking place and headed for Andrea’s studio, where he’d arranged to meet his parents. According to them, she planned to keep the gallery open until eight. He’d waited until now to drive up from San Francisco.

  Once the showing was over and she’d closed the doors, he had plans for them. They were going to talk everything out until he wrung a confession of love from her.

  He rounded the corner to the address his father had given him, but didn’t see his parents’ car there. They’d had another therapy session earlier in the day. Maybe they’d been delayed.

  As he spotted the gallery, his adrenaline kicked in. He hadn’t been with Andrea in weeks and ached for her. A nice crowd of people milled about, studying the paintings, Max saw as he entered. He noted with satisfaction that the blue hydrangeas he’d sent were prominently displayed among the many floral offerings sent by friends and business associates. Where was she?

  As he looked around, he spotted her redheaded friend studying one of the paintings. He strolled over to her. “Good evening, Nancy. Could you tell me where to find Andrea?”

  She turned sober eyes on him. “Oh, Max—it’s so sad. I’m afraid she had to leave.”

  “During the opening of her gallery?” He knew he sounded terse, but his disappointment was so great he couldn’t help it.

  “There was an emergency.”

  “Samantha?”

  “No. About an hour ago she received a call from the nursing home. Her aunt just passed away.”

  Max felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “I’m going to go find her.” He turned and strode swiftly out the door. The second he reached his car he called his father. “Where are you, Dad?”

  “Five minutes away. Sorry we’re late. It couldn’t be helped. What about you?”

  “On my way to Rutherford. During the showing, Andrea got a call from the nursing home. Edna passed away this evening.”

  His father made a sound in his throat. “It’s a blessing, but it’s still going to be very hard on Andrea for a while, especially with Samantha gone.”

  “I know. I’m leaving to find her right now.”

  “That’s good. She’s going to need you. Who’s minding the gallery?”

  “Nancy Owens. There’s still a crowd.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Tell Andrea we’ll stay to help until the showing’s over, and make certain everything gets locked up tight.”

  “She’ll be grateful for that.”

  “When you see her, give her our love and tell her we’re at her disposal to help plan the funeral arrangements. Samantha will have to be notified.”

  “I would imagine Andrea has already phoned her.”

  “Since their falling out I’m afraid little Sammi hasn’t made it easy for her mother to talk to her. Let’s hope she’ll at least e-mail Andrea back. If she’s trying to punish her by not getting back to her, that would really tear Andrea up.”

  “Do you think Samantha would be that vindictive?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t want to think it.”

  “Neither do I,” Max said in a haunted whisper. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  The rest of the drive passed in a blur. To his alarm he didn’t see Andrea’s car when he pulled into the nursing-home parking lot. He rushed inside to Reception. The night manager came to the desk. “Can I help you?”

  “I’ve come to see Andrea Danbury. I understand her aunt, Edna Green, passed away this evening.”

  “That’s right. Ms. Danbury was here to take care of things, then she left.”

  Max closed his eyes for a moment. He must have just missed her. “Alone?”

  “No. She was with a friend.”

  He wanted to ask if the person were male or female, but caught himself in time. “Thank you very much.”

  Once back in the car, he phoned his father again. “I got here too late. What’s the address of her apartment in Napa? I’m going to drive back and see if I can’t catch up to her.”

  After his father gave it to him, he thanked him and headed off ag
ain. Though Max drove over the speed limit, it seemed to take forever to reach Napa. Using the car’s guidance system, he found her three-story apartment building without a problem.

  In seconds he spotted her car in one of the stalls, but that didn’t mean she was home. Then he saw a familiar-looking Audi in the guest parking area and ground his teeth. Andrea’s companion would have to handle another interruption, because Max needed to see her.

  When she opened the door, he saw Brad Warshaw seated on the couch across the room behind her. “Andrea—I got here as soon as I could.”

  She looked shocked to see him. “You heard about Aunt Edna?”

  “Nancy told me. I drove to the nursing home to be with you, but the manager said you’d just left. I was worried about you.”

  He noticed she was clinging to the door handle. “I really do appreciate your concern, Max, but I’m not alone. Brad brought me home.”

  “So I see.” He had to rein in his emotions. “I’m glad you have someone with you at a time like this. Is Samantha on her way home for the funeral?”

  “I’m not sure. I phoned the Hilton in Male, where she’s staying, but I had to leave a message.”

  “Male?” he questioned. “As in the Maldives?”

  “Yes.”

  Good grief. There’d been a tsunami in that part of the world a few days ago, but with her gallery opening, Andrea must not have been listening to the news. “I thought she’d be in Alaska by now.”

  “I thought so, too, but I had an e-mail from her recently. She said she and her crew had been given a short assignment in Male after leaving Thailand, so she had to put off her flight to Alaska for a few more days.”

  No matter what, Samantha loved her aunt. If she hadn’t answered Andrea yet it meant she couldn’t! The hairs stood up on the back of Max’s neck.

  “I hope she gets in touch with you soon. If there’s anything I can do for you, call me. Mom and Dad are at the gallery to keep an eye on everything. They’ll close up for you.”

  “That’s very generous of them. Nancy and Pete said they’d do it.”

  “I’m sure the four of them will work things out. They send their love and want to help with the funeral arrangements. If you’d like it to be at the vineyard, all you have to do is say so.”

  Andrea smoothed the hair off her forehead in a nervous gesture. “Thank you for the offer, but before Aunt Edna got Alzheimer’s, she said she wanted a graveside service near my parents’ in Rutherford. There won’t be very many people. I prefer to keep it simple.”

  She looked shaken. She needed her daughter. Max wanted to hold her in his arms and never let her go. “You’re exhausted, Andrea. After such a traumatic evening you need rest. I’ll say good-night.”

  “Good night. Thank you for coming, Max.”

  Once the door closed, he raced back to his car and phoned his father. “Dad? I’ve just been with Andrea at her apartment. “

  “How is she?”

  “Holding on. She was with Brad Warshaw, a designer she’s obviously been seeing. The point is, she hasn’t heard from Samantha. I think I know why.” When he told his father the reason for his concern, Steve was equally alarmed.

  “I’m going to fly to Male tonight on the corporate jet and bring her home if I can, but I probably won’t make it back in time for the funeral. Tell Andrea why. She said Edna wanted a simple graveside service.”

  “Helen and I will help her. You go and find her precious Sammi.”

  Two hours later, Max was sitting in the club compartment of the jet. He immersed himself in half a dozen Pacific Rim newspapers he’d bought before taking off. He felt a chill when he read the latest information on the Maldives.

  Following the Indian Ocean earthquake, the Maldives were devastated by a tsunami. Only nine islands were reported to have escaped flooding, while fifty-seven faced serious damage to critical infrastructure, fourteen had to be totally evacuated and six were decimated.

  A further twenty-one island resorts were forced to shut down due to serious damage. The total destruction has been estimated at over $400 million. The brutal impact of the waves on the low-lying islands was mitigated by the fact there was no continental shelf or land mass to slow the force of the water. The tallest waves were reported to be fourteen feet high.

  Max’s heart felt as if it had been squeezed with an iron hand.

  ANDREA WISHED she could have invited Max inside, but not while Brad was with her. Since she’d closed the door, there’d been a lot of phone calls. Word had spread. It seemed everyone she’d ever known had phoned to offer sympathy and ask what they could do to help. She was very touched by the outpouring, but had the insane desire to call Max and beg him to come back.

  “Andrea?” Brad murmured. “I can tell you’re so tired you could drop. With the buildup to the gallery opening and now this, it’s been an emotional day for you. I should go.”

  Brad didn’t want to leave. She knew he was waiting for her to ask him to stay. Maybe if Max hadn’t come…Seeing him again had upset her so much she was drained.

  “Perhaps it would be better. You’ve put in long hours, too, and I’m so grateful.”

  Her words left him no choice but to walk to the door. Andrea followed him, saying, “Thank you so much for everything. You’ve been wonderful. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “That’s nice to hear.” Surprising her, he leaned forward and kissed her briefly on the lips for the first time.

  Andrea sensed he wanted a response, but she couldn’t give him one. Not because of her grief. It was because she feared he was trying to compete with Max, who’d brought his masculine energy with him.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Brad promised.

  “Please do.” She pecked him on the cheek before he left. After locking the door, she got ready for bed and pretty well collapsed after climbing under the covers, but her mind wouldn’t turn off.

  She’d lost her aunt and possibly her daughter. Tears trickled out of her eyes. She turned on her stomach.

  I need you, Max.

  ON TUESDAY, SHE FOUND herself thinking the same thing as she stepped out of the limo at the cemetery. The hearse had arrived ahead of it. Steve and Helen were waiting for her and gave her long hugs.

  Cars lined both sides of the narrow laneway. Beneath the canopy provided, a surprisingly large crowd of her friends, including Brad, had assembled.

  But Max wasn’t there, and no Sammi…. Not even a word from her.

  Shattered at the thought, Andrea sat there numbly as the minister wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Then he took his place at the end of the pale blue casket, Steve and Helen’s contribution. On top lay a gorgeous spray of pink roses. She’d seen the flowers at the mortuary. Max had sent them. Where is he?

  Andrea stared dry-eyed at the casket holding her aunt’s body. She’d dressed her in a beautiful white gown with lace at the neck and sleeves. Her great-aunt Edna was at peace now, thank heaven. The moment was surreal as the minister delivered his talk and gave the graveside prayer, committing her into the hands of the Almighty.

  As she finally turned away, Steve put his arm around her. “Max couldn’t be here because he’s gone to the Maldives to find Sammi.”

  “You’re kidding….”

  “No. He knows you need her.”

  I need them both.

  Chapter Nine

  Samantha was still registered at the Hilton, but from staff frantically trying to locate people, Max found out she was among the missing. He’d been praying nonstop that wherever she’d gone to take photographs, she’d survived the tidal wave. If she wasn’t found, Andrea would never be the same again.

  After twenty hours of torturous waiting at the Male airport, Max saw more shell-shocked people climb out of the latest rescue helicopter. The ones who couldn’t walk were put on stretchers.

  When Samantha didn’t appear, he walked to the next landing pad, where a military helicopter was coming in. Maybe this would be the one that he
ld her. This was the plight of thousands. The Red Cross was overwhelmed with requests, Max’s among them.

  A local woman and her child were helped off. Next came a sight that filled him with joy. It had been ages since he’d seen Samantha. Despite the fact that she looked drawn and exhausted, he hadn’t realized she’d grown into such a beautiful young woman.

  The golden-blond hair that used to cascade halfway down her back now hung in a limp braid. Her cotton top looked stained, her khaki pants were wrinkled and torn, but she was alive. She could move on her own steam and he could return her to Andrea in one piece.

  He moved toward her. “Samantha? Over here!”

  She swung her head around. “Max?” A strange expression broke out on her face. “What are you doing here?”

  Her response wasn’t warm or chilly, but in between. It prevented him from hugging her. “If you’re not too weak to walk, let’s go back to your hotel and I’ll explain on the way.”

  “I promised to wait here for the guys. They’ll be coming in on one of the other helicopters.”

  “Then I’ll wait with you.”

  They moved a short distance away. She eyed him warily. “How come you’re in Male?”

  “When you didn’t return your mother’s phone call, I got worried and flew here to find out why.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He took a calming breath. “Because your aunt Edna passed away at the same time the tsunami struck.”

  “What?” Her blue eyes darkened. “She’s dead?”

  “Yes. There was a graveside service for her day before yesterday. My parents helped your mom take care of things.”

  She looked shocked. “Your parents—”

  “Yes. They’re back together again and are planning to get remarried as soon as possible.”

  Tears glazed Sammi’s eyes, but not one fell. “I would have come home if I’d known, but our boat was forced ashore on one of the islands. I lost all my things, including my cell phone. We were stuck there in chest-deep water for two days, until help came a little while ago.”