All for Family (The Rawley Family Romances Book 3)

by Olivia Hardin

  As she headed down the hallway, she stopped to look at the tangerine colored bridesmaid dress. It was just like Rhonda to choose this color for her wedding theme. Meg reached out a hand and caressed the satiny fabric, then headed down the hallway towards the bedrooms.

  The door to the spare room was closed, and she tried to avoid thinking about the fact that Ray was in there, back under the same roof with her again. She’d known the day he’d headed for New York on a supposed short-term contract that he probably wouldn’t come back, at least not permanently. That had been over a year and a half ago.

  Then he did show up around midnight one Thursday evening, a repentant expression on his face as he bent over the bed to wake her. But she was quick to realize he wasn’t sorry just for waking her. He was sorry for many other things. And they’d stayed up into the early morning hours discussing their marriage.

  There were other women, he’d told her. Many other women. And he’d said he was discovering that he hadn’t sown his wild oats before settling down with her, and it had all been a mistake. There was also a new job opportunity, a permanent one that he just couldn’t pass up. He said he knew she wouldn’t want to move to NYC, though he never actually asked.

  And within a few days he was gone again, assuring her that their divorce could be civil and that he wouldn’t make this any harder for her than necessary. Now here he was, her ex-husband staying in her house again. She wanted to just be done with it and move on. In her mind and heart, she had already moved on, but Ray insisted they couldn’t tell the family just yet.

  The one and only reason was Rhonda.

  But then Rhonda was probably one of the reasons they’d gotten married in the first place.

  Since the moment siblings Raymond and Rhonda Slack had moved into the house next door to the home where Meg grew up, the three of them had been nearly inseparable.

  “Oooo! This one is pretty, too,” Rhonda gasped, leaning down and picking several bright purple flowers from the tall grass. She and Meg had been searching out just the right blooms for Meg’s bouquet from the field across the way while Ray finished cleaning his room. Every few minutes Meg’s brown eyes would peer over at the house, anticipating the way he would bolt across the railing of the porch as soon as he was released from his chores.

  “These are very pretty.” Meg noted, taking the flowers and adding them to the dozens already gripped in her little hand. Some of them were already starting to wilt under the summer heat, but that didn’t matter. She was as happy as any bride should be on her wedding day.

  “Man, I need something to drink. Want a juice pouch?”

  “Yes!”

  The two girls bounded towards their houses, hand in hand and giggling as they darted around holes and ant piles. Just as they arrived at Rhonda and Ray’s house, the screen door slapped opened, and he ran out of the front door.

  “Raymond Bradley Slack, were you raised in a barn! Close that front door!”

  Rhonda rolled her eyes as she watched her brother stop in his tracks and then backtrack to close the front door to their house. “Hey, dorkwad, we’re thirsty. Why don’t you get us some juice and meet us at the tree house?”

  Raymond was a few years older than Meg and Rhonda, but although he didn’t like it, he usually did what his little sister told him to do. Now he stomped his feet and stuck his tongue out at her. But after expressing his disdain, he turned on his heel and ran back into their house.

  “C’mon, Meg, we gotta hurry before he gets back.”

  So the girls ran at break-neck pace to get to the giant oak tree, up the ladder and into the treehouse as quickly as possible. Once there Rhonda shoved Meg into a chair and began sticking some of the flowers from the bouquet in her hair.

  “Okay, time to get dressed.” She held out one of her mom’s old night gowns, a long silky thing that was so big for Meg that it pooled into a dangerous pile of cloth all around her. “Now I want you to stand right there.” Her friend pointed to the corner of the playhouse. Meg inched forward, dragging her feet along the floor so that she didn’t step onto the dress and trip.

  “RayRay, are you down there?” Rhonda called to her brother. “C’mon. We’re ready.”

  As always, Ray jumped to his sister’s bidding, shimming up the ladder quickly, even with several juice boxes clutched tight against his chest. Once he was in the treehouse, he tossed the drinks onto the makeshift table-actually a leftover wooden roll for heavy electrical wire-and then he plopped his rear into a lawn chair and wiped his sweaty brow.

  “What are you doing? It’s time for the ceremony. Get up!” Rhonda fussed, holding out one of Meg’s father’s old shirts to him. They had carefully used several big black magic markers to color it into a “proper” jacket.

  “Aw, man. Can’t I at least catch my breath?”

  “RayRay, your bride’s waiting.”

  It was no use. When Rhonda Slack decided they had to do something, there was no way even her brother could get past her. But he wasn’t above expressing his feelings about it. Rolling his eyes a few times, he slammed his hands down onto his lap in a huff before finally standing up and letting her slip the shirt into him.

  “Okay, now you stand there, and Meg, when the music starts, you walk down this way.” She motioned with her hand. “Until you get here to the alter. Ready everyone?”

  She grabbed her keyboard and began tapping keys in a melody that sounded almost nothing like a wedding march, but Meg dutifully walked towards Ray, using one hand to hold her bouquet and the other to keep the skirt of her dress from getting tangled in her feet.

  “We are gathering here to celebrate the wedding of Raymond Slack and Margaret Timmons…”

  Ray wrinkled up his nose when his sister said his full name, but otherwise stood in obedience as she spoke.

  “… so do you RayRay… uhm, I mean Raymond, take Margaret to be your awfully married wife?”

  “I guess.”

  Rhonda narrowed her eyes at him, and Meg giggled a little, bringing her flowers up to hide the big smile on her face.

  “I mean, yeah, I do.”

  “And do you Margaret take Raymond to be your awfully married husband?”

  “I do.”

  Raising her hands high as if bestowing a blessing, she said, “Then I now announce you married. You can kiss the bride!”

  Meg took a step away, almost tripping, but catching herself on the window seal. “But Mommy says I can’t kiss boys yet.”

  With an exasperated expression, Rhonda stomped her feet. “Well then just give him a hug.”

  Ray didn’t look too excited about that, but he put his arms around her loosely and gave her back a little pat. Rhonda seemed satisfied with that because she rushed around them to grab up the forgotten juice boxes.

  “Now we get to toast the occasion!”

  A brown lock of hair fell into Meg’s face as she pulled in mounds of dirt to cover the newly planted hibiscus. When she brushed it back, she could feels the grit from her gloves against her sweaty brow, and she knew she probably looked a mess at that moment. Her cell phone was in her back pocket, and she slapped her hands against the legs of her jeans to clean them a bit before reaching in to retrieve it.

  When she saw what time it was she groaned. Rhonda’s rehearsal dinner was in a little over an hour, and Meg wasn’t nearly finished with the project she’d started. The rest of the plants would have to wait. Grabbing up the watering hose, she carefully soaked everything with a gentle shower until the soil was well-saturated, then she began cleaning up her things and loading them up into her truck.

  “All done, Mrs. S?” Tim Jenkins asked as he emerged from the back of the house with a yard rake in hand.

  “Yep, ‘fraid so. I’ve got wedding stuff tonight or I’d want to get this finished up. But, I suppose it can all wait until next week. Can you get those bags of soil and put them in the back of the truck for me?”

  Without even batting an eye, Tim hefted all three bags up and then put them into
the bed. Hiring the junior from the local high school earlier this year had been one of the smartest things she’d done. Originally just part-time, he’d started putting in full days during the summer, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to manage when classes started back in a few months. But then, a lot could change in that time anyway.

  “Do you have time to drop me at the school instead of my house? I was going to play hoops with some of the guys.”

  Meg stomped her feet to throw off some of the dirt and mud, then looked up at him with a raise of her eyebrow. “Hoops? I thought you weren’t going to play basketball next year so you could focus on football.”

  The whites of his teeth shone bright against his dark complexion when he smiled at her. “Aw, Mrs. S, I’m just gonna hang with the guys, you know?”

  She couldn’t help but match his grin before approaching and slapping him on the shoulder. Tim was a great basketball player, and he loved playing the game. He was also an exceptional football player. When his coach suggested he should focus on just that particular sport so that he might have a better chance at a scholarship, Tim had made the difficult decision to give up hoops.

  “No judgment there, Tim. I was just teasing you. I always said I’d back you no matter what decision you made. It was yours to make, not mine.”

  But Meg knew that he hadn’t made the decision based wholly on his own desires. Tim’s older brother had gone to prison the previous year and wouldn’t be up for parole for at least five. His mother and stepfather had three younger children to care for, too. Tim was a lost child and desperate to avoid falling into the same cycle as his brother and their father before them. He needed a way out, and college was his best bet.

  The strongest influence in his life was his grandma, and for the last few years he’d been staying with her instead of at home. Meg knew the woman fully intended for him to get away to college and never look back.

  “Alrighty. Hop in. I’ll make time to get you to the high school.”

  Tim’s smile turned even wider as he opened the truck door and kicked his sneakers against the side to knock them clean before getting in. His excitement about meeting the boys for basketball was almost palpable.

  Meg understood that friendship very well. Tim’s story wasn’t so different than hers had been. Her parents had divorced only a few years after Rhonda and Ray moved in next door to her. A series of “new” dads followed, but none of them stuck. By the time she was fourteen, her mom had decided to go it alone.

  Or at least as alone as one can be with a bottle of liquor in one hand.

  And if Rhonda and Ray and Meg had been close before, during her teen years those friends became Meg’s lifeline. She spent as many nights bunking in Rhonda’s room as she did in her own bed.

  She could still remember the way Ray’s parents—still married after twenty-five years—sat the two of them down for a long chat when Ray was seventeen and she was sixteen. They had been “boyfriend and girlfriend” since childhood. Propriety, hormones and respecting each other and their parents were all on topic.

  And she’d actually managed to wait until senior prom to give into Ray’s persistent requests that they go all the way. But she might not have done it if she hadn’t had a long talk with Ray’s mom about it first.

  I know what it’s like to be your age, Margaret. And I think you’d appreciate this so much more if you waited until you and Ray get married. But you two have to make your own choices.

  She watched Tim hop out of her truck and race up the steps to the doors of the high school gym, but her thoughts were still on the past. Even after all this time, Meg couldn’t help but smile affectionately with memories of Mrs. Slack on that day. Her marriage to Ray might have been destined to end in divorce, but becoming a full-fledged part of the Slack family would always be worth it.

  “And now for the first time ever, you’re lying to them,” she told herself, frowning so hard her face hurt.

  The house was empty and quiet when she got there, and she breathed a sigh of relief. A note on the table in the entryway revealed that Raymond had left a little early. She hated running late, but at least her tardiness meant she didn’t have to see Ray right now. She hurried down the hall to her bedroom, stripping out of her sweaty shirt as she went along.

  A cool shower washed away the muck and soreness from her body but did nothing for the anxiety building up inside her. She’d been divorced for months, but hadn’t told a soul. She’d managed to avoid all of the Slacks, including Rhonda, until just a few weeks ago. It hadn’t been her idea to keep it from her best friend, but Ray insisted it was for the best.

  You should have heard her, Meg. She’s seeing rainbows and unicorns and going on and on about us finally buying houses next door to each other and raising babies and shit.

  Meg thought he was exaggerating, not giving his sister enough credit to handle the entire thing. Sure, she had “planned” Ray and Meg’s marriage from the time they were kids, but they were all adults now. Things happened and not all marriages lasted forever.

  But then when Meg met Rhonda for lunch to celebrate her upcoming nuptials, she soon realized that Ray was right. His sister was still making plans for them and somehow betting a hope and a dream on how their lives were going to be once she and her soon-to-be husband moved back to their hometown. Their kids would grow up together, having slumber parties and selling lemonade on the side of the road. She had it all decided down to the last detail.

  And for whatever reason, Meg just couldn’t burst that bubble on the eve of her friend’s wedding.

  That didn’t mean she felt good about lying or omitting the truth as it were. Biting her lip in consternation, she stood in front of her closet and considered her wardrobe options, since the bachelor/bachelorette festivities would take place after the dinner.

  She studied things for more time than she really had to spare, then finally selected a pair of dark denim pants that made her legs appear slimmer. Since one could never go wrong with dark colors, she paired it with a black tunic top. The neckline was wide to show off her shoulders and she had to slip her bra straps down to rest low enough they wouldn’t show.

  Rhonda would have teased her for that, insisting she should just wear a strapless one, but she’d learned a long time ago that bras without straps just couldn’t hold big-chested women.

  From her jewelry chest she found a long multicolored bangled chain that fell between her breasts. She’d just slipped on her black heeled boots when her phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Are you coming or what? RayRay’s been here for at least an hour, and he’s already almost three beers in. You gotta rein that boy in.”

  Biting back the smart remark on the tip of her tongue, Meg dumped the contents of her large purse onto the bed and began rummaging for the things she’d need, organizing them into a smaller clutch. “Yeah, just took a little longer to wrap things up at work. I’ll be there in fifteen, promise.”

  “You better. I don’t need your husband’s bad habits rubbing off on Ben. We wives will have to stick together to keep our men in line.” Rhonda giggled, then said something Meg couldn’t decipher away from the phone. “See you in a few.”

  As soon as her friend was off the phone Meg turned to her mirror and examined herself at several angles, twisting and turning her hips and tugging and pulling on her clothing. The conversation with Rhonda had spiked her heart rate and her cheeks were red with anxiety. The pressure of whatever expectations her friend had for tonight and their future weighed on her like the world was on her shoulders.

  She slid her hands along her belly, sucking in tight as she scrutinized herself. With a dissatisfied sigh, she grabbed her purse and rushed out of the house.

  Jeremy Rawley took a sip of soda and scanned the crowd over the rim of his glass. Under normal circumstances, even with a more appropriate date, he wouldn’t have come to a party like this. But duty called, and tonight said duty was named Geneva Rawley Behzadi.

  His cous
in had been in trouble consistently since college, and after her last stint in rehab, her parents were loath to let her out from under their thumb again. But one of her college friends was getting married, and she’d been asked to be a part of the ceremony. The compromise had been to get one of her older, more responsible relatives to attend with her.

  Jeremy hadn’t been her first choice. He glanced now in her direction and watched as her head fell backwards in a laugh, revealing her swan-like neck. She was an exotic-looking woman with her father’s Persian features. Dark hair, darker eyes and smooth olive skin were enough to make her look like a princess.

  Geneva cut her eyes at him, and in return he cocked his eyebrow sharply. Something in her expression said she was up to no good, but he kept his seat and only watched her. The young man with her grabbed a nearby bottle of wine and refilled her glass. She tossed back almost half the contents, then ran her hand up his arm, daring Jeremy to react. He sniffed, raised his chin and turned his attention to someone coming up behind him.

  “Mind if I sit here? I think I lost my seat when I went to the ladies’ room.”

  His gaze moved upward and met warm eyes that had little crinkles in the corner, evidence the woman smiled often. She wasn’t smiling in that moment but wore a tense look of restraint hidden behind a placid expression.

  Jeremy grunted and motioned with his hand, but the woman was already sitting as if he’d invited her. Two hands held tight to a little clutch purse that she placed upon the table in front of her. He watched as her fingers tightened and then released the object, finding their way awkwardly to her lap.

  “I’m Meg,” she told him with a small grin that didn’t quite reach those deep brown eyes of hers.

  He actually knew who she was. There wasn’t anything remarkable about her except that she had the sort of effervescent personality that drew the attention of a person who watched people. He’d seen her buzzing around the room all evening, greeting guests and chatting with the bride’s and groom’s families. She seemed to be the hostess of the festivities, something that he would have expected the bride should be doing.