Link spotted his mom through the branches of a pine tree and went to see if she knew what they were supposed to be doing next—and why on earth they’d had to get here an hour before the wedding was supposed to start. “You clean up nice,” he said, leaning in for a quick one-armed hug. Mom did look especially nice today. She’d done something to her hair. Highlights or whatever it was called. “So, how soon can we get out of these monkey suits?”
“Not anytime soon.” She looked askance at him. “You’re worse than the grandkids. Austin’s having a meltdown about his bowtie”—she pointed down the hall toward the Sunday school classrooms—“and Dallas wasn’t having much luck getting him calmed down last I checked.”
“Can’t say I blame the boy. But isn’t he the ring bearer?”
Mom nodded her head. “That was the plan.”
“Speaking of plans, what’s next?”
“We’re supposed to do family pictures in about ten minutes. Bree and Drew are having their big reveal moment right now.”
“Big reveal?” He frowned. “Are we supposed to be there?”
“No, silly. It’s just the two of them. So he can see her in her gown before we take pictures.”
He shrugged. “Hey, I don’t know this stuff.”
That made her laugh. But it also made him ask, “How are you holding up, Mom?” He put his arm around her again, knowing this wasn’t an easy day for her, with Tim’s memory coloring everything.
“I’m okay. I really am.” She didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m happy for Bree. And Drew is—” Her voice broke.
“I know. He’s a good guy.” He pulled his mom closer. “They’re going to be really good together.”
“Yes, they are.” Mom took a deep breath and gave a faint laugh as she fanned a hand in front of her face. “Now quit being so sweet. You’re messing up my mascara.”
He grinned and gave a little salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
She looked over his shoulder to the front entrance. “You haven’t seen any of Corinne’s crew, have you?”
“No. You want me to give her a call?”
“Not yet. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.” Mom glanced at the clock in the foyer. “You sure you’re okay with slipping out early?”
“I’m sure.” He’d volunteered to leave the ceremony a little early and go unlock the inn so the caterers—aka Shayla—could set up for the reception there. He told himself he wasn’t making an excuse to see her or force her to see him. Though that had crossed his mind. But seeing her again would be a lot less awkward if they weren’t surrounded by a houseful of wedding guests—not to mention his entire family.
It’d been almost three weeks since they’d last talked. It felt more like forever to him.
“The house is locked,” his mother reminded him. “You have your key?”
He patted his pocket. “I’ve got it. And if I don’t, I’ll just crawl in through a window like any self-respecting burglar.”
“I’m going to see if I can help with Austin.” She started down the hall, ignoring his joke.
It seemed to be all the rage—ignoring him.
He went back to the fellowship hall to see if anyone else was here. Weddings were crazy. Why anyone wanted to get all dressed up in the world’s most uncomfortable clothes for twenty minutes of pomp and circumstance, he’d never understand.
If he wasn’t so apprehensive about seeing Shayla again, he’d have been glad for the privilege of being designated official gofer. And he’d already decided a perk of the job was getting out of this tie a half hour earlier than everyone else.
Mom beckoned from halfway down the hall and he gathered his dad and the others who’d drifted in. He felt for the poor photographer, trying to wrangle the entire Whitman crew—twenty of them, including Bree in her wedding gown, and Drew, who wasn’t even officially one of them yet. But they managed to get a couple of shots the photographer assured them could be edited so that all eyes were open, all tongues inside mouths, and all princess pink petticoats under wraps. He made the mistake of picturing himself in the groom’s spot and made a quick note-to-self: elope.
Drew tried to kiss his pretty bride-to-be before they headed off to their separate dressing rooms, but she pressed a manicured hand over his mouth. “Uh-uh! Not until we’re married.”
The nieces and nephews tittered and whispered about kissing, and Mom, along with Bree’s mother—serving as co-wedding planners—herded the little ones to their appropriate places.
An hour later, Drew collected on that promised kiss, following a ceremony that Link had to admit was very touching—not a dry eye in the house, including his. He wondered if Tim was witnessing it all—from heaven’s balcony, as CeeCee liked to say. And if so, how he felt about it.
As the pastor presented Mr. and Mrs. Drew Brooks to the guests, Link slipped from his pew and out a side door, loosening his tie the minute he hit the foyer.
He drove to the inn, his nerves growing more on edge by the mile. The Coffee’s On catering van and another car were already parked in the driveway when he pulled in. He waved and got out of his truck, holding up his keys.
Shayla waited in the driver’s seat of the van and rolled down her window as he approached. She looked as beautiful as he remembered, her hair wild and curly the way he liked it. She looked good even in her simple uniform of crisp white shirt and black pants.
“Hi.” He hoped his eyes conveyed how much he’d missed her, how good it was to see her again. But she wasn’t alone in the van. He looked past her and gave a quick wave to the college-age kid riding shotgun.
“You guys are going to want to park around back and come in through the garage doors. Why don’t you go ahead and drive on around”—he pointed—“and I’ll go through the house and let you in. Everything should be set up and ready to go inside. I can help you carry everything.”
Shayla shook her head. “You don’t need to do that. I brought help.”
“That’s what she pays us the big bucks for,” the good-looking black kid in the passenger seat said.
Link gave the guy a thumbs-up and winked at Shayla.
“Oh. Sorry,” she said. “This is Derrick. Derrick, Link. And that’s Valerie in the back.”
“Glad you’re here, man. Thanks for coming.” Link gave a short wave and jogged to the front door of the inn. He unlocked it, leaving the door open behind him. He walked through the house to go unlock the back door.
The inn had been transformed, thanks to Mom and his sisters, along with Bree’s mother. Bree’s parents, who lived in Rogersville, had been guests at the inn since Thursday night, and the entire weekend had been a flurry of showers, the rehearsal dinner, and now the wedding and reception. And this was a “tiny” wedding, according to Bree. Eloping was looking better all the time.
If he was ever lucky enough to have that decision in front of him.
He shook off the thought and opened the back door where Shayla and her crew stood at the ready, arms loaded with boxes and bags.
“Can I help?” he asked, hoping for a chance to talk with Shayla alone.
She couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. “Thanks, but we have a system.”
“Okay. I’ll just stay out of your way then. Let me know if there’s anything you need.” He showed her where they could hang their coats.
A plump redhead got out of the car, and she and the guy followed Shayla’s lead, setting up drinks and laying out the boxes, apparently in a certain order.
Plates and napkins were arranged just so on the counters, and every surface had been cleared, awaiting the light supper and dessert—including wedding cake—that Coffee’s On was providing. Flowers in soft pastel colors sat on every table and as centerpieces on the serving tables. Link wasn’t sure where they were going to fit the people. Of the seventy-five guests Drew and Bree had invited, almost sixty of them had RSVP’d that they were coming.
“The inn looks beautiful,” Shayla said, still not quite meeting his gaze. “A lot different
than last time I was here.”
He chuckled. “Brace yourself. All those same kids will be here in half an hour.” Except Portia. He’d missed that little squirt almost as much as he’d missed Shay. Almost.
He wondered if she was thinking the same thoughts, feeling the same emotions he was. But she laughed and went on setting things up for the reception. He wanted to ask about Portia, but now didn’t seem the right time.
While Shayla and her crew of two made numerous trips to and from the delivery van, Link found a butane lighter and went around the house lighting the tapers and votive candles tucked anywhere one would fit.
“The candles look pretty,” she said coming in with a stack of boxes.
“Let me know if you see one I missed. I promised my mom they would all be flickering when the guests arrived.” He checked his phone. “You sure you don’t need any help? People should be getting here in about twenty minutes.”
“We’re right on schedule.” She looked past him to the redhead. “How’s that coffee coming, Valerie? Did you get that carafe for the decaf?”
The girl gave Shayla a thumbs up. “I’ve got it.”
Link shook his head. “How can you be so cool, calm, and collected?”
“It’s all an act. I’m like a duck. You can’t see it, but I’m paddling like crazy under the water.”
He smiled. “Well, you make it look like a piece of cake.”
One corner of her mouth—her lovely mouth—lifted. “No pun intended, right?” She removed a heart-shaped cake from a box, as if to make her point.
He laughed. “It really wasn’t intended. But good one, if I do say so myself.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “If you were serious about your offer to help, you could take these cake boxes back out to the van for me. I want to keep them clean, in case we need them for leftovers later, but they can go on one of the shelves in the back of the van for now.”
“Got it.” He took them from her and headed outside through the garage.
He tucked the boxes away where she’d told him, and closed the door. Hearing a scuffle behind him, he turned to see Huckleberry dashing for the open garage, a streak of chocolate brown. The Lab was supposed to be locked in Dad’s work shed for the day. At least until all the guests were inside. How had Huck escaped?
Valerie came out, leaving the door into the house open.
“Hey, you’d better close that or—”
Too late. In a flash, Huck was inside, barking at the strangers on his turf.
Link made a beeline for the kitchen. “Huckleberry Whitman! Get back here right now. Heel, boy!”
Huck obeyed like always: by doing the exact opposite of what he was told.
The Lab headed toward the front door, his legs—and tail—going ninety miles a minute. Link tried to catch up to him, but four legs always beat two.
Huck let out a bark headed back to the kitchen. Link followed, then heard a crash—and Shayla screaming.
Link rounded the corner in time to see the cake hit the floor. Thankfully still right-side up, but the shock and despair in Shay’s eyes were reminiscent of the day he’d almost hit Portia with his truck.
Link froze, trying to decide whether to go for Shayla, Huck, or the cake. He decided taking Huckleberry out of the equation made the most sense. He dispatched Huck to the front porch, then hurried back inside to find Shayla kneeling on the floor, staring wide-eyed at the cake.
“Thank goodness it was only a little one.”
Her breath left in a rush. “A little one? Only a little one? Are you insane?” She grasped both sides of her head with her hands. “Link, it’s the top of the wedding cake! It’s the one most important thing I had in that delivery van! And now it’s ruined!”
He squatted down to inspect the damage. Except for some nicks in the frosting, it was mostly intact. An idea struck. “Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
He ran to the pantry and rummaged among the utensils. He returned to Shayla, holding up his dad’s biggest grilling spatula.
“What are you doing?” Shayla looked at him like he was certifiable.
He knelt beside her and slipped the edge of the spatula beneath the cake.
“Oh.” Shayla winced. “What if—”
“Trust me.” He centered the cake on the spatula and rose slowly to his feet. Carrying it ever so slowly to the counter, he became aware of Shayla’s catering duo looking on.
He could feel Shayla following inches behind him. “You’re not doing what I think you’re doing?”
He grinned. “Mom always says her floors are clean enough to eat off of. So . . .”
“You’re not serious.”
“As a heart attack. You have a better idea?”
She looked at the rescued cake. “I guess it’s really not that bad. And your mom does keep a clean house.”
“See? No harm done.” He bent to inspect the cake and picked off what could have been a dog hair. “Good as new.”
Shayla turned to Derrick and Valerie and wagged a finger between them. “So help me, you two, if I ever hear so much as a hint of this story going around town, I will hunt you down and you will pay.”
Convulsing with laughter, the two gave a smart salute and hurried back to finish setting up the buffet tables in the dining room.
Link tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t contain a little snort.
Shayla glared at him. “That goes double for you, mister.” But the twinkle in her eyes revealed the chuckle she was holding in herself. She carefully lifted the cake onto the stack she’d already assembled, then gave him a sideways glance. “Okay. This is what I’m going to do. And you aren’t to breathe a word of it.”
“Pinkie swear.” He held out a pinkie.
Which she promptly ignored and continued to assemble the cake. “Here’s the thing.” She pointed to the dropped cake. “This is called the anniversary cake. Traditionally, it’s taken off and set aside before the cake is cut at the reception. A lot of couples freeze it and eat it on their first anniversary. Or sometimes after they get back from their honeymoon.”
“Okay. And you’re telling me this fascinating history because . . . ?” Despite having lived through three sisters’ weddings, he’d learned more about the hallowed sacrament of marriage today than he had the entire rest of his life put together.
“I’m telling you this because what I’m going to do after the cake is cut, is put this cake in a box like I always do. Then I will take this cake home, I will toss it in the trash, and I will make a new anniversary cake, which you”—she thumped his chest with her index finger—“will somehow sneak into Drew and Bree’s freezer while they’re on their honeymoon.”
“Oh, I see what you did there. Clever.”
“I’m not kidding, Link. Nothing like this has ever happened to me! I’m just sick about it.”
“Shay, I guarantee you, my family would find this hilarious. Nobody would care one bit that—”
She stopped frosting, palette knife in hand. “You’re not going to tell them? Please, Link. You can’t tell anyone.”
“It’ll be our little secret. I promise. But it’s not like it was your fault. It was the dumb dog.”
“You’re right. It was.” She stood back and inspected the cake.
Link swiped a dollop of frosting off her palette knife and licked his finger. “Mmm. That’s good stuff.” He paused, frowned, and pretended to pick a dog hair off his tongue.
She gave a little growl and swatted his arm. “That’s not even funny.”
But it was. And they both cracked up. He looked at her, only then realizing how much he’d truly missed her. Whatever was yet to happen between them—or wasn’t—it was a relief that they’d found their way back to the easy friendship they’d known.
Although, he doubted he could ever look at her as merely a friend.
Link heard the front and back doors open at the same time, and through the front windows, he could see a caravan of vehicles streaming up the drive. “
In the nick of time. Here they come.”
Shayla wiped a microscopic smudge of frosting off the cake stand and untied her apron. “Derrick? Valerie? You guys ready?”
Her crew appeared under the archway between rooms and stood at attention.
“Looks like you have everything under control here,” Link said. “I’ll go put that dog back in the shed.”
Shayla nodded, then winked. “You do that. And while you’re at it, the three of you keep that cat in the bag.”
25
Audrey wove her way through the dwindling crowd of wedding guests and sought out the one face in the crowd that made her heart beat faster. Still, after almost forty years.
Grant stood at the fireplace, a cup of coffee in hand—fully leaded, no doubt. The man would be up all night. But he was in his element this evening, helping her host sweet Bree’s wedding reception, and getting to show off his masterpiece, which was this house.
She wished her grandparents could see what the house had become. How much love it held. How well their children were all doing. Audrey didn’t for a moment take for granted that they’d been so blessed to have their kids all stay so close to home for all these years.
Grant was always reminding her to hold these blessings with an open hand. And just last week, Landyn had hinted that she and Chase might be moving back to New York. Much as Audrey wanted to pray they would stay right here, she didn’t dare. If not for their first apartments in New York, Chase and Landyn might not be raising their sweet twins together. And Audrey held a secret only Grant knew. And of course Chase. Landyn was expecting again. Due in July. Oh, she would have her hands full. But so did a lot of mommies—including her, once upon a time.
She still had her hands full. But now with grandbabies and an ailing—but beloved—mother-in-law. And with the guests this inn brought into their lives each week. She’d allowed it all to get her down too often. But with this wedding behind them—and so much ahead—she was determined to figure out what it would take to scale back a little and make her life manageable. But she would take one day, one moment at a time, and see what God had for her in that moment, and that moment alone.
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