The Sometime Bride

by Baird, Ginny

  All of those dreams had become realities thanks to Carrie’s personal investment in each of these ventures. The results had given her more than satisfaction, they had given her purpose. Within a year, she’d become incorporated and established her own independent investment firm. Two years later, she made the cover of Forbes. But in spite of the increasingly lucrative opportunities that poured her way, Carrie stayed true to her initial calling of helping the small businessman. Though she’d never been precisely poor, her background had been modest. And she’d seen from her own experience that a “rags to riches” existence was possible. All so many people needed was just a chance to get them started. And if the man she loved needed that same kind of chance, she would move heaven and earth to make it happen.

  Carrie scooped the morning paper off her front porch and sat down to browse the financial section over coffee. She had figured Mike for some sort of real estate venture. High end sales, perhaps combined with property management of some of Grand Caymans larger estates.

  Carrie laid down her paper, a surprising thought taking hold. What if Mike hadn’t planned to work in real estate at all in the Caymans?

  But, what else was there? Certainly not early retirement for a man as clever and energetic as Mike. He still seemed way too ambitious, not to mention physically...

  Physical! But, of course, Carrie thought with a grin. Her “swim god” wanted to go to the Caymans to capitalize on his native expertise. And Carrie wasn’t talking about love-making... Though she was certainly hoping there’d plenty of that.

  The moment Mike stepped from the car it hit him with a one, two punch. This was it, he thought, looking around. This was home.

  The white cape cod was nestled in a quiet grove just west of the city. It was zoned for the best school system, one of his client’s priorities, and had enough bedrooms -- four -- to accommodate a houseful of children.

  Mike stood on the front circular drive looking up at the dormer windows protruding from the second story. Those would give plenty of light, and most likely window seats, to the children’s rooms.

  When Mike stepped inside and walked through the foyer and directly to the back of the house, he was not disappointed. The high stone hearth made the open family room connecting to the kitchen look cozy. Mike’s trained eye swept over the kitchen appliances which all looked to be less than five years old. A good sign for a house that had been built in the 1940's. It was an indication the owners had routinely kept it up and not just bandaged things at the last minute for the sale.

  At the back of the kitchen area sat a large bay window, looking out onto immaculately tended gardens. One hosting several rows of summer vegetables, another sporting colorful flowers surrounding a sparking pond.

  Mike’s heartbeat picked up a notch as he circled back through the formal living area and dining rooms, both which needed painting but heralded gorgeous ceiling and chair rail moldings.

  Though it was his job, Mike felt surprisingly like Goldilocks, as he took the stairs two at a time and hurried upstairs into the bedrooms. He went to the front of the house first, where he found, as he’d suspected, a couple of cheerfully decorated children’s rooms complete with sun-dappled dormer windows.

  The master bedroom was good-sized, but not so large a couple could get lost in it. And the fourth bedroom, which was currently used as an office, and two upstairs baths were inviting and well maintained.

  Mike felt he was bursting at the seams as he took it all in. He’d always heard buying real estate was an emotional experience. Had witnessed that enamored expression on the faces of many of his clients. But never a million years did he dream that besotted feeling would happen to him.

  Carrie would love it. He just knew it. Though her current place was charming, it was nowhere big enough to accommodate a large family. And this house here, situated at the crest of a sleepy knoll, was not only roomy enough for plenty of children --all the rug rats Mike secretly hoped he and Carrie would make -- it was also afforded the same stunning view of the mountains.

  Mike went downstairs and walked out onto the back patio, eyeing the one accouterment that had cinched the deal from the moment he’d hit the property line. Fanning the border of the house’s perimeter was a neat arrangement of flowers and shrubs. And behind those -- gleaming in the sunlight -- stood a freshly painted a white picket fence.

  ****

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carrie picked up her office phone and dialed. Though she quite obviously sometimes gambled with her heart, when it came to business dealings, Carrie was exceedingly cautious. Before she went and did anything involving money, she needed to make certain her hunch was accurate.

  “Hello?” Jack Davis answered.

  “Jack, good morning. This is Carrie, Carrie St. John.”

  “Why, Carrie!” he said, sounding genuinely pleased to hear her voice. “How are you? That son of mine behaving himself? Cause if he’s not, I’m still available, you know.”

  Carrie chuckled. “Oh Jack, you are bad.”

  “Thank you, my dear. So, what can I for you this morning? Time to start practicing our wedding march already?”

  Carrie blanched before remembering she’d impetuously invited Jack to walk her down the aisle. An act she still wasn’t sorry for. Mike’s dad was adorable. “Oh no, not that. But, I’ll certainly let you know.

  “Actually, I was calling with a question -- about Mike.”

  “Mike?” Jack exclaimed. “Well, I can’t completely promise you I’ve figured that boy out. But go ahead and shoot, if you’d like. I’ll do the best that I can.”

  Carrie hoped she wouldn’t disillusion her prospective farther-in-law by seeming too forward. But, in for a penny, in for a pound, she told herself. “It’s about the British West Indies. The Cayman Islands, specifically.”

  Jack seemed to be waiting on the other end of the line. Not commenting, just waiting for Carrie to finish. She wasn’t sure if this was good, but decided to press on ahead.

  “Anyhow, I realize Mike has an interest in the Caymans --”

  “That so?” Jack butted in. “Didn’t know he’d discussed it with you.”

  Ah, Carrie thought, then there was something to discuss, and something to her gut feeling, after all. “Well, he mentioned it somewhat. Some time ago, actually. But I could tell, even at the time, how very important it was to him.”

  “I think Mike’s just recently found what’s most important to him.”

  Carrie colored at the compliment, despite the fact Jack couldn’t see her. “I appreciate that, really I do. And Mike is very special to me. Extra special. I hope to marry him.”

  Jack was quiet for a moment before speaking. “That’s wonderful! He’s asked you, then?”

  “Well, uh...not exactly. But let’s just say I see it coming.”

  “Then I say, your vision’s twenty-twenty, my girl.”

  That extra bit of reassurance warmed Carrie through and through. “But because I love him, Jack, I’d hate to think of Mike giving up any long-term dreams on my account.”

  “Oh now, fluff,” Jack said, huffing into the phone. “Don’t you go worrying your pretty little head over that. I never really believed the boy was going to open that dive shop anyway.”

  Carrie hung up the phone after thanking him and promising Jack she’d let him know just as soon as they’d scheduled the wedding rehearsal. Wedding rehearsal?! They still hadn’t invited half the guests. The ones that would fill in the slots Wilson’s missing family would have occupied. Oh well, Carrie decided, she could think of that tomorrow. Today, she had some phone-calling to do.

  “Mary,” she called into the next room. “Do you have a moment to come in a make some notes?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Mary said, appearing at the threshold.

  “Great,” Carrie said, her grin as wide as the big outdoors, “because we’re slightly revising our project. Ready to dive in?”

  “You sure about this?” Colleen said, staring up at Mike in disbelief.
“A four-bedroom house is a big investment for a bachelor.”

  Mike patiently shook his head. This afternoon, not even Colleen was going to sour his mood. “Already told you Colleen, not going to be a bachelor that much longer.”

  Colleen dropped down into her chair in shock. “You’re dead serious about this, aren’t you?" For the first time for as long as he remembered, Colleen lifted the dangling bifocals from her neck and shoved them up on her nose. “Shut the door, Mike.”

  Mike walked to the back of Colleen’s office and closed the door, giving the two of them privacy.

  “Have a seat,” she instructed when he returned.

  “Now,” Colleen said, once he was seated. “Tell me honestly, what kind of trouble are you in?”

  “Trouble?”

  “Is the girl pregnant? Because, if she is --”

  “Pregnant?! Holy cow! Pregnant, Colleen?”

  Colleen motioned downward with her outstretched palms. “Just calm down there, Mike. You won’t be the first one on my staff who’s gotten himself into a bit of a, uh...personal pickle.”

  “Colleen, I’m not asking you for money! I have enough for the down payment in my account. I’ve been saving it up for a while now for...for... Well, never mind. It’s not important anymore. What is important is that I’m not asking you for any special favors, here. Only the standard cut on the price based on reduced commission since someone in this office is buying it. I don’t see the big deal. It’s accepted protocol. I’ve seen you authorize such sales at least a dozen times.”

  “So, she’s not pregnant?” Colleen asked, as if she hadn’t heard a word.

  “Give us a couple of months,” Mike said, settling back in his chair.

  “How much is the house?” Colleen asked, sighing and eyeing him quizzically.

  “Two-forty.”

  Colleen raised her eyebrows. “Joint mortgage?”

  “Absolutely not,” Mike told her. “This one has to be all mine." His to own and his to give away -- with a full heart, Mike thought with a deep inner peace that spread from his heart to his belly.

  Carrie couldn’t believe her luck. There was a small store for sale just at the edge of trendy Seven Mile Beach. With all the major resort hotels nearby, the location couldn’t have been more perfect. The shop, just outside of George Town, was even guaranteed docking privileges. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Of course, as the store had formally served as a nick-knack and jewelry shop they’d have some remodeling to do. Probably plenty of remodeling to do, given the bargain basement price of the property, Carrie decided.

  Still, if the appraiser she’d contacted at the Grand Cayman bank came back with the report Carrie expected, the place was a steal. An investment waiting to happen. Carrie’s palms moistened at the possibilities. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Mike’s face.

  And yet, she’d have to proceed cautiously. Make certain he didn’t mistake this for some kind of hand-out and become offended. But Carrie had never planned to give him the money, only loan it -- on a long-term repayment, low-interest basis like she had for each of her other clients. It could give him the chance he needed, if he wasn’t too darn proud to accept it.

  Carrie paused at that last thought, considering. What if he became furious at her intrusion? What if he accused her of trying to run his life? What if he truly couldn’t see that this was no sort of manipulation; it was a gift from the heart?

  Carrie slouched back against her high-backed leather chair and spun to face the window. She supposed it all depended on timing. First, they had to get beyond that proposal part, so Mike wouldn’t think she was trying to buy his affections. But, when oh when, was that proposal part ever going to waltz along?

  Mike had said, trust him. But for how long?

  She wondered if he’d even considered the wedding angle, or if he’d find using her pre-made arrangements tacky. To Carrie, it just seemed a terrible waste to let all that planning and expense go, just to reinvent the wheel.

  Well, they would sort all of that out soon enough. First things first. She’d found the ideal property for Mike’s dive shop and if she didn’t move in on it quickly, somebody else would, she knew. The location was just too hot.

  And if after all her trouble, Mike hated the idea? Had completely changed his mind, and no longer wanted to move to the Caymans? Well then, she’d just have to cross that bridge when she came to it. The shop would be a surprise, a wedding gift. And if he didn’t care for it, Carrie would just have to find someone else, another entrepreneur, to take advantage of the opportunity. But that wouldn’t happen. She was sure of it. Once Mike was advised of all the particulars, he was going to be over-the-moon.

  Mike sat at his desk mooning over a picture of the house he was about to purchase, and wondering how soon it would be available for occupancy. Colleen had already phoned the owners with his offer and would be letting him know that detail along with their counter-offer, when it came.

  Now, if he could pre-occupy -- and be in within a month -- that would be even better. He’d asked Colleen to inquire about the possibility. Mike couldn’t wait to get started on a life with Carrie. Real stroke of luck she already had the wedding arranged. Though they hadn’t talked it over officially, he guessed since he hadn’t proposed “officially,” Mike assumed that’s what they would do. Go ahead and use the facilities and services Carrie had already arranged. She’d never canceled them, as she’d threatened to do earlier. Grandma Russell had told him so. It made his heart spring-dive just to think she’d forgone canceling those arrangements because she’d held out hope for a future with him. With him! And, holy cow, it was happening.

  The house he’d found was perfect, so perfect that...

  Mike stopped congratulating himself as his blood ran cold. Oh my goodness. What if he’d done the wrong thing? What if Carrie became incensed at him making such a major decision for the two of them? Without even consulting her first?

  What if she didn’t even want to live in Virginia, but had someplace else in mind entirely? They hadn’t even had a chance to discuss those kind of future plans. Mike had just seen the house, the white picket fence and -- whammy! He’d gone and done something huge, something impetuous, something nearly irrevocable. Holy cow. Mike blew a hard breath and sat back against his chair, as fear settled into his belly.

  Surely, Carrie wouldn’t fault him for a wedding gift? Yes, that’s what he’d call it. And, if she didn’t like it...? Well, though they couldn’t exactly “return it,” they could surely work something out. Find renters, re-sell after a while. But Mike didn’t want to re-sell. He absolutely loved the place. And, Carrie would, too. He just knew it.

  ****

  Chapter Eighteen

  Carrie nervously bit into her bottom lip, smearing her lipstick against her teeth. Darn it! She’d have to start all over again. Ever since Mike had called this afternoon, she’d suspected something was up. There was an urgent expectation to his voice. No, it couldn’t be tomorrow; it had to be tonight. Even though Carrie had loads to do at the office and was expected to work late, she’d come home early, showered and put on a fresh sundress. And, he wasn’t even expected until seven-thirty! Seven-thirty. What was Carrie going to do with herself for the next forty-five minutes while waiting for him to come?

  Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she should probably eat something. No, she was going to throw up. Carrie raced to the toilet thinking she was going to lose her lunch. But after a few moments of staying still, the clench in her belly eased.

  Crimminy! She was a wreck. Didn’t even know for certain tonight was the tonight.

  Like hell she didn’t, Carrie thought, racing back to the bathroom.

  The telephone rang and she limped into the bedroom to pick it up, all the while clutching her mid-section.

  “Darling?”

  “Oh Grandma Russell, thank goodness! I am such a wreck. Such a WRECK. Mike called and said --”

  “Hold on there, child. Slow down. Can’t make out a word
you’re saying.”

  “I’m, um..." Carrie sat down on the bed and started to cry. “Oh Grandma, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

  “Calm down. Just take a deep, deep breath.”

  Carrie inhaled.

  “Now let it out.”

  She did.

  “Go on, a few more times. In and out. I’m not going anywhere; I can wait.”

  Carrie wiped the moisture from her cheeks and sat up a little straighter.

  “Now, you still with me?” her grandmother asked. “Or should I call the rescue squad?”

  Carrie let out a laugh that released more tears. But, this time, she felt more in control. “Thanks, Grandma,” she said, taking another deep breath. “You’re the best.”

  “What’s all this about wanting? You mean, the dang hunk hasn’t proposed by now?”

  “Not yet, but it’s coming,” Carrie said, holding out her trembling left hand and examining the bare ring finger. “I can feel it. Just like that musky heat right before a rain.”

  “Well,” Grandma Russell said, “he’s been waiting for a reason. So don’t you go jumping all over him with kisses and I do’s before he can get two words out. First, give the rascal a chance to say his piece.”