Right Kind of Wrong

by Sara Rider

  “Work?” That wasn’t what Julia was expecting to hear.

  “Yes,” Carol said sanguinely. “Hard work. Every day we wake up and make a choice to put our relationship first. Every time George left his dirty socks on the floor, I would remember all the times he surprised me with a weekend away so I could relax.”

  “Still makes you angry, though,” George said with a hearty laugh. “And every time she makes her tuna casserole even though she knows I can’t stand the stuff, I think about the first time I heard her laugh. She has a wonderful sense of humor.”

  “And a wonderful tuna casserole, thank you very much,” Carol added with mock offense.

  Julia’s heart squeezed so tight, it was hard to breathe. They were adorable.

  “And of course, there’s the most important part,” George said gravely.

  Julia glanced in the rearview mirror again. “What’s that?”

  “Therapy,” they said in unison.

  “Oh, I know what you’re thinking,” Carol said. “Therapy was very much a taboo subject back in our day. But after I gave birth to Jeremy, I had a rough spell. Postpartum depression, but of course we didn’t call it that back then. My cousin Maureen came to stay us for a while and help out with the older children. She’d taken psychology in school and suggested I talk to someone. It helped a lot, and then the therapist suggested marriage counseling. George and I have been going to therapy and counseling ever since.”

  “It’s not the easy parts that make a relationship great. It’s the work you put into it,” George said.

  Tears sprang into Julia’s eyes. She wiped them away quickly before George or Carol noticed. She hadn’t had a lot of examples of that kind of love in her life. She’d read about it. Seen it in movies. But never truly believed it was real. But what if she was just too scared to believe it? What if she had walked away from Fergus because she was scared of the hard work that came with a relationship? What if she was the one who’d given up too soon, too easily?

  It didn’t matter. She couldn’t be the only one fighting for the kind of relationship she wanted—the kind of relationship that George and Carol had. Fergus had been clear he didn’t want that.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Carol asked.

  “Yeah,” Julia lied. “I am.”

  They arrived at the daffodils a few minutes later. The fields were even more beautiful than Julia had expected. Endless rows of yellow flowers rippled like melted sunshine all around her. She took a million photos on her phone, but none of them captured the true beauty of the place. It was stunning. More importantly, George and Carol were enjoying themselves.

  “Well, I suppose it’s time to get going,” George said after they’d strolled through every row in sight. The sun was just starting its descent past the tall green mountains in the distance.

  Julia checked her phone. They did need to get going soon. She gave one wistful glance back at the cheery daffodils before leading George and Carol back to her car, imagining how romantic it would be to come here with someone she loved. She shook her head and beeped her car locks open. Now was not the time to think about her sad love life. Right now, it was all about Carol and George.

  Using the excuse that she wanted to snap more photos of the sunset over the water, she detoured off the highway on the ride back, pulling into the regal driveway of Harley Manor.

  “Oh, I’ve always wanted to come here for dinner,” Carol exclaimed as the elegant, cliffside Hartley Manor came into view.

  Julia couldn’t hold back her smile. The eldest Kiesselburger daughter, Janine, was the one who told her Carol had mentioned this on several occasions. “We should stop in for a drink at least, then.”

  “Oh,” Carol demurred. “I don’t know. We’ve already taken up so much of your time. Besides, we have that leftover casserole waiting for us for dinner.”

  “I insist,” Julia said. “When are you going to get the chance to come out here again? Besides, the only thing waiting for me back at my apartment is a bowl of cereal for dinner in front of the television.”

  Julia parked the car while George and Carol silently toyed with the idea.

  “Well, if you insist,” George said. “But it’s on me.”

  Julia grinned triumphantly. “Of course.”

  When they stepped through the doors, nearly a hundred people shouting a chorus of “Surprise!” greeted them.

  Tears filled Carol’s eyes. George wrapped an arm around her shoulders, looking just as shocked.

  The couple’s genuine joy filled Julia’s heart. This was why she spent the hours obsessing over details other people considered frivolous, and tripled-checked everything no matter how tedious.

  “Mom, Dad,” Jonathan, the eldest Kiesselburger, said as he handed them each a flute of champagne, “we don’t say it enough, but we love and appreciate you. None of us would be the people we are today if it weren’t for you. So let’s all raise a toast to the greatest parents, grandparents, and people in the world.”

  Eli came out from the middle of the crowd to stand next to Julia, offering her a glass of champagne. “I need to drive home later,” she whispered.

  “It’s sparkling cider. No alcohol.”

  “Thanks.”

  Eli shrugged. “You’re the one who thought to put it on the menu.”

  She smiled. “Everything in place for the slideshow?”

  He nodded. “It’s good to go. Jake, Clem, and Nora went home after setting up, but I stayed around in case you needed anything else.”

  “No problems came up?” It was unusual for there not to be something go wrong, but as far as she could see, it was perfect.

  Eli hesitated. He pressed his lips together, like he was trying to hold back the words forming in his throat. “No, nothing at all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, more resolutely this time. “You can trust me.”

  She took a deep breath. He was right. She could trust him. Her big brother had proven that time and time again, and it was about time she realized that. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Eli and her friends had dropped everything the minute she admitted to needing their help tonight, no questions asked. The least she could do was show them trust in return. The truth was, it wasn’t so bad letting them help. It gave her the chance to relax a little and enjoy the evening she’d worked so hard to plan. Sure, the decorations weren’t exactly to her specifications. The ribbons on the chair were double rather than single knotted, and the tables were crowded a little tight for her liking, but the spectacular backdrop of the Pacific Ocean from the floor-to-ceiling windows was the only thing drawing the eye anyway.

  Besides, asking for help meant she didn’t need to drive out here early in the morning to do the setup herself before driving back to pick up Carol and George. She’d gotten to enjoy her afternoon with them.

  Julia spent the rest of the evening running the show from behind the scenes as she normally did—setting up equipment, checking on the food with the kitchen, making sure everyone was comfortable and happy. The slideshow played while the guests ate dinner. Julia snuck glances at the siblings, but there were no signs of dismay or jealousy. They were getting along. Whether it was for the sake of their parents or because they were genuinely happy with the way things had come together, Julia didn’t care. It was all working out as it was supposed to.

  The speeches followed during the dessert course. Julia listened first to Jonathan regale the crowd with a story about the first time their dad surprised their mom with a family vacation as she sipped her cappuccino and savored bites of the lemon crème cake. Janine followed with a story about their first pet. Michael and Melissa were next, tag-teaming their speech, which provided some wonderful comic relief. Finally, it was Jeremy’s turn.

  He stepped up to the microphone and unfolded a paper with shaky hands. Julia hadn’t pegged him for the nervous type, but there was no disguising the red hives streaking his neck. “Dear Mom and Dad, there is no one as wonderful as yo
u. It is true. You loved us with all your heart, even when we made the garage fall apart.” He paused for a moment and cut a glance to his youngest brother. “That was Michael’s fault, by the way.”

  The crowd laughed and Jeremy cleared his throat to continue. “We’re sorry for the time we broke your favorite flower vase, but we’re grateful for how generous you were with your applause. We love you for sewing every Halloween costume by hand. We love you for showing us right from wrong and when to take a stand. We’re sorry that we fight so much, we’re trying to be better. That is why we wrote this poem together. We’re sorry for how much we fought as kids. We’re so grateful for everything you did. We love the way you still hold hands. We love the way you’re each other’s biggest fans. But most of all, we love you for being you. Thank you for showing us the kind of love that’s true.”

  It didn’t matter that it was a terrible poem, or that Jeremy’s delivery was awkwardly stilted. It was beautiful. George and Carol rose from their seats and hugged Jeremy and the rest of their children.

  “Crying again, Jules?”

  She gently elbowed Eli in the gut. “I’m not crying, I’m just adding a little sparkle to my complexion.”

  “Liar.” He scooped the last bite of cake on her plate before she could stop him. She elbowed him for real. “Yeesh. There’s more in the kitchen. I’ll sneak back and get us another couple of slices.”

  “Now I remember why I love you so much,” she said before shooing him off on his mission.

  The guests were mostly up and mingling again now, with cappuccinos and wineglasses in their hands. She wound through the tables to where Jeremy stood. “That was a really wonderful poem.”

  “Thanks,” he said with an embarrassed smile. “I have you to thank for the idea. And for the gift.”

  She frowned. “That wasn’t the gift?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No. I mean, yes, it was meant to be the gift, but that was because we didn’t know about the artwork. How did you pull that off so quickly?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s in the back room.” He pointed to the far corner of the space where the coat closet was located. “We’re going to reveal it soon. It’s perfect. Thank you so much for getting that organized, and for everything else. You really are a miracle worker, and we couldn’t have done it without you. We’ve been talking and after everything we put you through these last few months, we realized it was unfair to ask you to volunteer your time for this. We should have been paying you.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said, surprised by the offer. But that wasn’t what made her heart race. “Will you excuse me?”

  She wove through the guests and slipped inside the back room. Dozens of shiny wrapped boxes and elegantly tied bags sat on a folding table on one side of the small room. On the other, a huge frame—the plain black kind that could easily be bought at any big box store. But inside the frame was a drawing of George and Carol, done in pencil with so much beautifully realized detail and shading that it was as stunning as any painting.

  There was only one person who had the skill to pull it off. Emotion welled in her throat.

  There was a small present the size of a shoebox on the table in front of the drawing. It was terribly wrapped with bunched edges and gaping folds, and an ungodly amount of scotch tape. Scrawled on top in thick black sharpie was her name. She tore the paper off and opened the box.

  Puzzle pieces. Around fifty of them inside the box.

  She didn’t stop to wonder what this was about. Her hands were already pulling the edge pieces from the box, rapidly assembling the white and black shapes. It took her a good ten minutes to put it all together, and when she placed the final piece, she gasped. The puzzle was a replication of another drawing, this one of her and Fergus. But it wasn’t a picture of them as they were now. They were older, much older. As old as George and Carol. There were craggy lines on their faces, but it was undoubtedly her and Fergus. There were sitting on matching recliners, hands entwined over the armrests.

  Julia covered her mouth with trembling hands. Fergus had never been good with words, but he could express himself this way. This was everything she’d wanted to hear, all the comforting words and promises that she needed captured in a single image.

  She ran out of the backroom and scanned the guests for his red hair and broad shoulders. He had to be here somewhere.

  “Psst.” She turned to see Eli next to her, grinning. “You might want to check the back garden.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “What do you know?”

  He feigned innocence. “Me? Nothing. I’m just saying the gardens are pretty lovely this time of year.”

  Anticipation swelled inside her. She raced through the French doors that led to the gardens. “Fergus?”

  She didn’t see him anyway. “Fergus? Goddammit, Fergus, where are you?”

  She rounded the corner of the building and ran square into something hard. And tall. And that smelled of pumpkin spice.

  “Hey,” he said, catching her by the elbow before she toppled over. “I’d really prefer you don’t break anymore bones before I say this.”

  Every inch of her skin tingled with hope and excitement. He was here, wearing the blue sweater she loved. “I can’t make promises.”

  He frowned. “Julia—”

  She shook her head. “And I don’t need promises in return. I never meant to pressure you. I was scared and—”

  He pressed his fingers to her mouth. “Julia. I love you.”

  “What?”

  His hand slid to her cheek, cupping her gently. “I love you. I was scared, too. I’m still scared, but that moment you walked away from me made me realize how much I’d screwed up. I want to be with you. I want to make promises to you. I want… I… I…” His words came out in a rush before stumbling to a halt. He raked a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the tick of his jaw. “Shit. I’m not good at explaining this.”

  “It’s okay. I love you, too.”

  His eyes widened like it was the last thing he expected her to say. “You do?”

  She twined her fingers with his. “I do. I’m just as scared as you are, but there are things worth fighting for. You’re worth fighting for.”

  “We’re worth fighting for,” he corrected.

  Her heart exploded like a million stars bursting into a new galaxy. “We are. We definitely are.”

  Epilogue

  Julia straightened the teal runner on the large, round table, then dug into her handbag for the pair of scissors from her emergency sewing kit and snipped the frayed edge before it unraveled entirely.

  “There,” she said to herself. “Now it’s perfect.”

  “Everything’s already perfect,” Fergus said, handing her a glass of wine.

  She accepted the glass but couldn’t stop herself from running her eyes up and down the length of his body. He was a good-looking man no matter what he wore, but Fergus in a suit was a full-on experience that needed to be savored like an expensive box of chocolates. “Weren’t you supposed to be dancing with Emily?”

  He glanced back at the dance floor. “Her great-uncle Arthur wanted a turn and Emily says he’s a better dancer than me.”

  “She’s right.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close, swaying her back and forth.

  Dear god, she loved this man.

  She loved Emily, too. It had been a lot easier to figure that out than it had been with the girl’s dad. It probably had something to do with the fact that Emily was smart, funny, driven, and totally reminded Julia of herself at that age. She was also massively talented. The television show didn’t start filming until the fall, but Julia had gotten the chance to watch Emily rehearse over the past month. It had taken a lot of conversation and promises from Emily that she would maintain her grades to finally convince Fergus and Nicole that she could handle the series. In the end, Emily’s passion had
won them over. But even if her parents were still struggling to accept her ambition, they couldn’t deny she was bound to be a star.

  “Um, hi, Julia?” The matron of honor stood in front of front of them with an embarrassed look on her face. “You don’t happen to have eyelash glue in your kit, do you? Nicole’s having another emergency.”

  “Again?” Fergus growled. He held her wrist a little tighter like he didn’t want to let go, then released her with a sigh. “Hurry back.”

  “Lead the way,” Julia said to the other woman.

  Within a few seconds, she was back in the bathroom with her emergency wedding planner kit open.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Nicole said, white dress bunched around her as she sat on the vanity stool, left eyelid fluttering as the long, feathery fake lash dangled precariously. Two more bridesmaids stood next to her, looking on with anxiety.

  “It’s my pleasure,” Julia said, dabbing the glue along Nicole’s eyelid and pressing the rogue lash back in place. She’d been called upon earlier to help when Nicole’s bustle failed right before the first dance, and again when the outdoor lights were causing problems for the photographer. Fergus had been surprised when Julia insisted on bringing bolt cutters to the event, but they’d proven handy once again. “There you go. Perfect.”

  Nicole breathed out a sigh of relief. “Why did I think I could handle planning my own wedding just because it was my second time around?”

  “You planned it perfectly,” Julia insisted. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. Tom is clearly madly in love with you, and the guests are having a great time. But promise me you’ll call me if you decide to plan an anniversary party.”

  Nicole laughed, tension rolling off her like Julia hoped. “I will.”

  Julia stepped aside for the bridesmaids to shuffle past her on their way back to the dance floor. Nicole hesitated before following them. She set her hand on Julia’s arm. “Hey. I meant it when I said I’m really glad you’re here.”