by Tracy Ewens
“Whatever. Let’s talk about something normal.”
“Since when have we been normal?”
Meg agreed but told Anna that she might be willing to try some version of whatever Anna had if the right opportunity presented itself.
“You want to get married?”
“I… not right this minute, but I might. What I want more than that, though, is to feel grounded, tethered to something that isn’t going to fly away. I need finish making a place for myself.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Mom was right. She said you would stay, and none of us believed her. That’s amazing news.”
“Yeah, I guess. I need to get going on this heart for the hospital foundation before they knock on my door, but after that, I’m thinking of trying my hand at artistic portraits. Different animals, same concept.”
“It could be. I think that’s a terrific idea. You know so many people. I’m sure you could work with politicians or even…”
“Actors. You can say it, Anna. I’m not allergic to the word—only one in particular at the moment.”
“Actors, athletes. There are endless opportunities. Any idea what you’re going to do with your heart? The foundation one, not the one in your chest.”
“No idea, for either of them.”
They paid the bill, and Meg walked Anna back to her office. Taking the long way around campus to her car, Meg knew she had always been good at taking risks as long as they involved enduring rope burns or rolling off a dive boat. She’d returned to her family with a backpack full of memories. Some of the highest awards for her craft were now perched on her bookshelves, and yet loving people and letting them love her in return was something she was still working on. She wondered if West was too.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Meg had once dangled from a cliff trying to capture a Common Murre flying back to its nest on Saint Paul Island. It was probably the most dangerous shot she’d ever attempted, and the result landed on the cover of National Geographic. She was twenty-six, the youngest photographer to make the cover in the history of the magazine. It was a big deal, complete with a ceremony and a round of toasts. Meg barely remembered the evening. She’d been exhausted and leaving for Kenya the following day.
A huge accomplishment by most standards was muted by her rush toward the next thing. As the woman with a pixie cut and embroidered flowers on her shirt stood to tune the rest of the string ensemble in the garden where her last and dearest sister would be married, Meg took in a slow breath at the realization she had been running for most of her life. She’d never seen it that way before. It was disguised as drive, ambition, “pure stamina,” as her boss once put it. But with the sun warming the morning chill and members of the UC Berkeley orchestra continued their warm-up, Meg allowed that she’d been running away from things she was desperately afraid to want her whole life.
That didn’t diminish her work or her accomplishments. They were the result of her choices, but in the end, they were only photographs. The lions she captured were living a life, even her precious polar bears barely noticed her and moved on with the essentials of family and survival. All this time, she’d thought she was the tactile one, the adventurer of the Jeffries family, when in reality she was observing right along with Anna. Granted, hers was hands on and she couldn’t remember the last book she’d read that wasn’t a travel guide, but it was the same thing.
If Anna had continued being wallpaper, sitting on the sidelines of her life, she wouldn’t be slipping into her glittery shoes and preparing to marry the man who would still watch The Notebook with her long after the newness of their relationship wore off. Meg knew her sister, knew what it took for her to let someone in, especially someone like Dane. It was dangerous, and it turned out her sister was made of cliff-dangling material too.
“Meg.” Her mother tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a bouquet of blush and ivory flowers, snapdragons included. “Everything all right?”
Meg nodded and recognized the musicians were now in full play and the sun was higher in the sky. Her mother kissed her gently and Meg noticed the tears pooling at the edges of eyes that looked so much like her own.
“It’s time,” her mom said and turned to join the rest of the wedding party under the tent. Meg pulled herself together and remembered she was the maid of honor. Once again there was work to be done. As she headed back toward her responsibilities, Dane finished talking with his sister who was also his best woman. She was in a black-and-white dress with her daughters, the presently reluctant flower girls, each holding one of her hands. The groom approached with a smile Meg registered as pure joy. No matter how everything unfolded today, the whole damn event could fall apart, and Dane would leave with the only thing that mattered to him: Anna. Men were wonderfully simple that way, Meg thought.
“You ready?” she asked Dane, who towered over her and cleaned up even more handsome than usual in a tuxedo.
“From the day I met her,” he said.
Meg slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re such a liar. You couldn’t stand her the day you met her, remember?”
He shook his head.
“Reality has been replaced with all that mushy love crap, hasn’t it?”
He practically beamed and Meg could have sworn his eyes were glassy already. Amazing that her tiny sister could bring such a big guy to tears. Meg was sure it wasn’t the first time.
“She gets right in there with all her poetry and glitter, doesn’t she?”
He nodded and Meg wiped the lapels of his tux. “Well, you look dashing, so let’s get on with the party.”
“I knew I liked you, little sister. See you in there.”
“You will, I’ll be the one standing next to the bride. Not that you’ll notice a thing once you see her.”
Dane put his hand to his chest and walked through the arch of flowers and up the aisle. The music grew louder and Meg knew the moment Anna arrived. She could feel her sister’s energy bursting through the morning air. She glanced up and their eyes met, Anna flawless in lace and silk. She nodded, her arm draped through their father’s as she stood in the moment they’d been talking about and planning for months.
Hollis handed Ansel over to his father. Matt kissed his gorgeous, impatient wife and then joined Garrett, Sage’s husband, who was guiding Olive as she toddled toward their seats. Sage smoothed her hair and even in the first trimester with her second child managed to look calm and delighted.
Meg considered her three big sisters, three different women united in a childhood of memories and the adult lives they’d fumbled through. She had spent her life trying to outrun and outperform each of their shadows, but she’d grown up on her adventures and returned home with clear vision. All she saw now when she looked at her sisters was light. Fractured and difficult to capture, no doubt, but still the most glorious perfect cast of warmth she’d ever witnessed.
“Are we going to get this show on the road?” Hollis called to her. “Or are you going to keep us waiting per usual?”
Meg shook her head and took her place in front of her sister, not before kissing both her and their father on the cheek.
“You’re looking a little nervous, Dad,” Meg said.
“I’m concentrating. No more talking or I’ll cry before we get to Dane.”
“Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee,” Meg whispered in her ear. Anna’s face, creased with the details and expectations of the day, softened into laughter and she kissed Meg back.
“Was that Shakespeare? Did you honestly look up Shakespeare? That’s sweet, Meg. It’s so—” Sage didn’t finish her sentence before she began to cry. Anna handed her a tissue and then they heard the music change and it was time to go.
“Thank you,” Anna said as they all approached the arch. “For everything.”
Meg reached back and squeezed her sister’s arm. “Thank you right back. For everything.”
“Could you two pay attention?” Hollis
asked from her obviously distressing place at the end of the line.
“Hollis, don’t ever leave Matt,” Meg said right as the strings and piano began playing the song Meg thought she recognized from a movie but had forgotten to ask Anna about. All of them burst into laughter, Hollis included, and that would forever be the memory of the Jeffries sisters, delivering one of their own down an aisle of glitter to the man she loved.
Annabelle and Dane Sivac were married in the Shakespeare Garden at Golden Gate Park a little after ten in the morning under a perfect fall sky. It went “off without a hitch,” as their father exclaimed shortly after, save Olive wiggling free of an exhausted-looking Garrett and running to Sage’s side. Not that Olive could ruin anything. Sage scooped her up on her hip without missing a beat. Middle One turned out to be a natural.
Meg held both bouquets as Dane delivered a kiss, complete with a dip that made Anna laugh and would not soon be forgotten. Meg hoped the wedding photographer was paying attention.
The smell of flowers and the chatter of people filled the garden as guests congratulated the couple and made their way to waiting cars that would take them to the rooftop restaurant at Dirty Habit. When Meg had seen the proofs for the invitations, she’d burst out laughing at the name paired next to the Shakespeare Garden and decided she loved her new brother-in-law even more.
Meg spent an inordinate amount of time alone and rarely felt lonely, but standing on the curb in a beautiful dress she would probably never wear again, she felt a bit isolated. Perhaps it was that familiar feeling of being left behind. Her mother had often tried to explain that her position in the family held an “inherent sense of abandonment,” although Meg usually scoffed at that. Sure, Meg had seen three sisters go off to college and one by one leave her with an extra set of chores. It had been difficult when Hollis first changed their family dynamic, but Sage leaving had been the hardest. The dinner table felt weird after that. Quieter. It was a foursome—Anna, Meg, and their parents—and for the first time in Meg’s life, they could all fit in a standard booth at a restaurant.
By the time Annabelle left for Berkeley, Meg had all but shut down. She made it her business to keep herself active from there on out. She had been busy for the last ten years away from home and now, as it began to drizzle a bit and Meg tipped the string quartet (another maid of honor duty), she wondered if she’d stayed away so long as punishment for being left behind. Was that possible? Did the experiences of childhood run that deep? It certainly wasn’t anyone’s fault that life moved forward, but pulling a wrap over her shoulders and grabbing a purse one of the guests left behind, Meg was lonely.
“Excuse me,” a deep, familiar voice called out behind her.
She turned to find a sleek black car, pulled to the curb, window rolled down.
“Do you know where I can find the Jeffries-Sivac wedding? I’m late.”
Meg held her hand up, squinting in the sunlight peeking its way through the clouds, and almost melted into the grass. How had he known that she needed him at that exact moment? He seemed to find a way to her, into the places she tried to lock down.
Meg walked up to the car window. “Wait, OMG, are you Westin Drake?”
He flashed her a smoldering Hollywood expression. “Why yes, yes I am, sweet thing.”
She leaned into his car. “Where did you come from? And you’re driving all by yourself. I wasn’t aware you even had a license. Please tell me your picture is as horrendous as the rest of us.”
“That’s way too many questions. Get in. You look gorgeous, by the way.”
Meg couldn’t move. Even though she’d begun envisioning him in her life, the impact of loving him hit her right there on the curb with a force that rendered everything else, including which actress was in his next shower scene, silly.
“I love you,” she said without hesitation, as if it was urgent he know right then.
West stepped from the car and Meg realized she was looking around in an effort to protect him in case someone popped up from the bushes. All worry was quickly washed away when she took in the full sight of him. Navy suit, plaid shirt, and an open collar. He was effortless style and genuine polish. Outside beauty lit from within by the mischief and energy in his eyes.
“Did Tamara get this for you because—” She was silenced as his hands slid around her face and his mouth took hers in a kiss that she knew had nothing to do with his training and everything to do with his heart.
“Say it again.” His voice was low and his eyes were reaching into a soul Meg saved only for herself.
“I love you.”
“I know.” He kissed her again and she started to laugh. They both did as she smacked his shoulder and he held her tighter.
“Not your line, movie star. Now we’re going to have to shoot that whole scene again. From the top. Get back into your car.” She squirmed to turn in his arms, but only managed to crane her neck. “Is that a Tesla?”
West nodded.
“Oh, you are pulling out all the flash today, aren’t you?”
His expression grew serious. Meg blinked.
“I love you too, Megara Jeffries. My heart figured it out right away, but I’ve always been a slow learner.”
She kissed him and, resting her head on his chest, tried to regain her balance. “That was good.”
“Yeah? I wrote it myself.” He eased his hold on her and Meg felt the cool breeze blow between them. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late.” Meg smoothed her dress. “You said you weren’t coming.”
“I changed my mind. Decided to stop playing the part of the pretentious and paranoid dick.”
She laughed. “I see. Well, I’m flattered.”
“Good. Now, as fun as kissing you crazy on the street curb is, I’d like to meet your family.”
“That’s a big step.”
“It is. Get in my zero-carbon-footprint car, Meg.” He held open the door for her.
She tucked her purse and the few left-behind items under her arm and gathered her dress. Before she ducked into a car she’d only ever seen in magazines, she kissed him one more time. Already anticipating the eyes that would be on them once they arrived at the reception, she wanted him all to herself for one minute more.
“Zero footprint. Look at you talking clean to me.”
“Like that?”
West closed her door and quickly circled around to the driver’s side. She let out a deep breath and admired the beauty of the Tesla’s interior. Incredible what could be created without hurting anyone, she thought.
“Here we are in the front seat like grown-ups,” West said as he stretched a seatbelt across his chest and pulled away from the curb.
“That’s right. Did Vince get the day off?”
“He did. I’m breaking all the rules today.”
Meg took his hand and acknowledged he was downplaying a gesture she knew firsthand could lead to chaos. She loved him even more for taking a chance but couldn’t ignore the concern hanging in the air.
“I’m not sure what kind of security—”
West squeezed her hand. “Your sister is married. From the sound of the place they’re holding the reception, I think I’m going to get along with the happy couple. This is a time for your family, and I want to be the only man dancing with you. Please let me worry about the baggage I bring to the party.”
“I know, but I don’t know everyone there and—”
They stopped at a light and he kissed her. It was a move to shut her up, but the taste of him kept her from protesting.
“Clouds are rolling in. It might rain. That’s good luck.”
“The reception is on the roof. How is rain good luck?”
“They’ll have covers, and it is good luck when it rains on a newly married couple.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I don’t remember, but personally my best memory so far happened among the clouds. They’re good like that. Take my word for it.”
Meg wr
apped herself in the fog of their moment on the bridge and told herself, rather convincingly, that things would be fine.
West must have heard her mind. He reached over as they pulled into the valet line behind the other guests. “Normal, Meg. We are normal for today.”
She held tight to his hand. It was a lovely bit of fantasy, she thought, but he wasn’t normal. Neither one of them were and while she knew she’d asked for this, pushed him with her need to have more of a life with him, she had a sinking feeling that wasn’t realistic. Glancing over at him, she pretended he could pass for any other wedding guest. He was a fantastic actor bent on getting the part, so the least she could do was play along.
Chapter Twenty-Four
West had requested one plainclothes member of his security team for the lobby and another placed in the reception. His guys were experts at blending in. And while there was no reason Meg needed to know, West did put a call in to Dane, the groom who now sat a few chairs down and was all but bursting with love for Meg’s sister. West needed to make someone aware so Maxwell, who was keeping an eye on things and hitting on the bartender, didn’t get kicked out for crashing their wedding. They were an hour into the reception and so far, the focus was on the happy couple and Meg’s family. Right where it needed to be.
West loved weddings. His brothers were all still single, so he had not been in a wedding that truly meant something yet, but he had been in two weddings on the big screen. Nick Shot married his first wife on the big island of Hawaii in the first movie, but by the end credits, she’d been killed off by a crazy drug dealer with a mechanical arm. Fortunately, West’s on-screen alter ego found love a second time around with his feisty car mechanic.
Not exactly original, but West liked Ali Strump. Being her pretend husband for the last three films wasn’t nearly as difficult as he imagined the real commitment would be. Their on-screen fights could get intense, but once Gary yelled cut, they made faces at one another and both agreed Cheetos were far superior to Doritos. Not that either of them could afford the calories during production, but it was fun having someone willing to food-dream with him.