by Sophia Renny
She kept busy. There was now not just a home remodel to focus on, but the prospect of becoming a small business owner as well. Hours were spent at her computer, researching, taking notes. Phone conversations with Audrey carried into the late evening hours as the older woman offered her advice and resources. There were several conversations with Sylvie, too. Although Willa’s heart constricted with pain every time Sylvie spoke her eldest brother’s name, any evidence of her deepest emotions was kept firmly under lock and key.
Tony called her over to the house once or twice to point something out to her while Curtis hovered with his camera in the background. She murmured responses she hoped were appropriate and avoided Tony’s searching, troubled gaze.
He took her around to several building supply and furniture warehouses on Wednesday, Curtis and Tiffany in tow. Willa was glad for the distraction of selecting paint colors and tile designs and granite countertops. She duly admired various window treatments, lighting and bathroom fixtures. She smiled for the camera as Tony extolled the virtues of one kitchen or laundry appliance model over another. She sat on sofas and chairs, put her feet up on coffee tables, opened cabinet drawers, tested mattresses for firmness, walked barefoot on area rugs.
Tony laughed and joked a lot in front of the cameras, putting her at ease as always. She didn’t think too much about how similar some of his features were to his brother’s, or how his laughter carried the same rich timbre.
In some ways, she thought, Tony was still a boy. He’d endured a horrible tragedy, but she didn’t think he’d truly had his mettle tested yet, not in the way his brother had. She allowed herself to wonder briefly what Tony’s personality would have been like if he hadn’t had the ever-present assurance of his brother’s care and guidance. Would he be as self-confident and good-natured? And how much had both his character and Sylvie’s been influenced by Julia?
She must be a good person, this Julia.
Veronica arrived with the production crew on Friday. They captured scenes of Willa and Collette painting walls in the upstairs bedrooms. Then Veronica and Sam took Willa aside for a lengthy interview, inviting her thoughts on the progress made so far and if everything was meeting her expectations. There was no mention of Joe until the end of the interview when Sam asked Willa if she was looking forward to seeing what Joe had done with the wall unit.
“Oh, yes,” she said in a practiced tone. “I’m looking forward to the final reveal and seeing the solution he’s come up with.”
“You don’t want to see the designs beforehand?” Veronica asked.
“No,” Willa insisted. “I want to be surprised. And I know he’s very busy with the other project right now. I don’t expect to see him again until the final reveal.”
Veronica gave her an odd look but didn’t mention Joe again.
Every morning, Willa hurried to the beach as soon as she could, anxious to rescue any stranded horseshoe crabs before it was too late. One morning, she found one that was barely moving. Only a few steps away from the dying creature stood two fishermen, casting their lines in the bay. She yelled at them, angrily demanding to know why they hadn’t put the helpless creature back in the water. They both looked at her uncomprehendingly, giving her the impression that they didn’t speak English.
She brought the crab to the water and watched, tears stinging her eyes, as it drifted, lifeless, with the current.
She had never raised her voice to anyone like that before. The burst of anger had briefly energized her, then left her feeling drained, hollow.
She was sad. And she was angry.
Not angry at Joe. Not angry at herself. Just angry.
This thing between them wasn’t anyone’s fault.
Growing up, she hadn’t been allowed to nurture the soft, romantic side of her nature. And, for the most part, her sexual experiences had been cold and mechanical. But she remembered reading children’s storybooks about true love, one in particular about a lightning bolt striking the hero’s heart when he first looked at the woman he would eventually carry off into the sunset on his powerful white steed.
The predominant, logical side of her brain told her that there was no such thing as love at first sight. There was instant physical attraction, of course. And lust. In hindsight, she recognized that she had felt those things for Joe immediately, but had kept the sensations buried because she was so unaccustomed to them.
But it had been more than that. It was more than that. It wasn’t sexual desire that kept her awake long into the hours of the night; it was the ache for the other half of herself, the missing piece that made her feel whole.
She was angry because she had no doubt in her mind that Joe was the only person who could fill that empty place inside of her. She was angry because she’d been shown the promise of what the rest of her life might be with him by her side, and that promise had been snatched away.
The anger manifested itself in printed reams of data on managing a small business, in sheets and sheets of cookies, in throwing rocks in the water and slapping paint on walls.
She didn’t speak her anger or her sadness to anyone. And, thankfully, no one seemed to notice. Or, if they did, they kept it to themselves.
When she returned from her walk on Saturday morning, she found Collette pacing up and down her driveway.
“You forgot about the breakfast, didn’t you,” her neighbor guessed. “Hurry up and get ready. The girls are already there!”
“What breakfast?”
“The May Breakfast at Shirley’s church. I told you about it last Sunday. It’s a Rhode Island thing. You’re going to love it.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Collette slammed her hands on her hips. “You’ll grow an appetite when we get there. And you’re getting too skinny. Now, go on. You have ten minutes.”
Willa wanted to argue further, but Collette’s expression was uncompromising. Not long ago, the older woman had confided that she thought of Willa as the daughter she’d never had. Collette’s bossy mom side was in full evidence today. Willa heaved a deep sigh as she walked up to her apartment. Oddly, she was less concerned about being in a large group of people than she was facing an inevitable inquisition from the girls.
On the drive over to the church in Cranston, Collette told her about the history of the May Breakfast, how it was one of those “only in Rhode Island” traditions dating back to the late 1800s. “They have them all over the state during the month of May, but this one we’re going to is one of the best. People line up at five in the morning for the first seating. Good thing Shirley and Mercy got there early to save us a seat for the nine o’clock.”
It was a warm morning with temperatures already in the low seventies. Collette had shouted from the driveway that it was a casual event, but Willa had chosen to wear one of her few spring dresses, a short-sleeve wrap dress in a pretty floral print. Low-heeled, tan strappy sandals and a matching purse completed the outfit. The ensemble lifted her mood and her confidence a little bit, something she desperately needed before facing the girls.
The church hall was packed, and there was a festive mood in the air. Willa’s eyes traveled around the room while she waited for Collette to purchase their tickets. Around the perimeter were long tables laden with baked goods, plants, May baskets, and homemade crafts for sale. A couple dozen round tables took up most of the floor space, every chair occupied. Servers scurried between the tables carrying trays of food which were set down family style in the middle of each table. Other servers came around with offerings of coffee and juice.
“I don’t see the girls,” Willa murmured as Collette came to stand beside her.
Collette scanned the room, then pointed to the far corner. “There they are. Follow me.” There was a curious note of anticipation and excitement in her voice, more so than usual.
As they made their way between the tables, Collette would stop every few feet to greet someone she knew and then introduce Willa.
There were a lot of people in the room th
at Collette knew. It seemed to take forever before they finally reached the large round table in the corner.
“Hey, thanks for saving us seats,” Collette said loudly. “Tony, Joe! I’m glad you could make it.”
Willa’s head jerked up. She’d been so focused on not tripping over any chair legs on her way to their table that she hadn’t looked to see who was sitting there.
Mercy, Audrey and Tony faced her. On the other side of the table, with their backs to her, were Shirley, Joe and another woman.
It wasn’t Sylvie.
Willa’s heart stopped and started again. She stood, frozen, as both Tony and Joe rose from the table. Joe turned around, his smile carved on a face of granite. His eyes, as they briefly rested on her face, were remote.
“Hello, Willa.”
She couldn’t speak.
Collette picked up the slack in a heartbeat, moving forward to give him a swift hug. “We’ve missed you at the house this week. Tony says you’ve been working on the other project?”
“Yes. That one’s taking a little longer than we planned. We uncovered some major problems with the foundation.” He kept his eyes on Collette as he drew her attention to the woman who had risen from her chair to stand beside him. “This is Julia Kelly, my fiancée. Julia, this is Collette.”
“Nice to meet you, Julia,” Collette said politely, shaking the other woman’s hand. She turned to Willa. “And this is Willa. I’m guessing Joe and Tony have told you about her.”
“Of course,” Julia said. She turned to Willa and offered her hand. “Willa, I’m so glad to meet you. Sylvie is very excited to be working with you on your bakery plans. It’s all she talks about.”
“Hello,” Willa managed to reply.
Tony came forward and took Willa’s hand. “Come and sit next to me,” he invited, tugging her gently along. He pulled out the chair to his right, which put Willa in between him and Shirley. Joe held out the empty chair to Julia’s right for Collette before sitting down between Julia and Shirley.
“This is great,” Collette chirped. “A full table of friends! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” She turned to Julia. “Tony says you guys haven’t been to a May Breakfast in years. Did he have to do a lot of convincing to get you here?”
Julia laughed. “Not at all. This is one of my rare Saturday’s without any events to manage. I’ve been looking forward to this, too. It was Joe who took some convincing.” She gave her fiancé a mock baleful stare.
“Oh, yeah?” Collette shot a look at Joe. “You’re tired of my company already, huh, Joe? What’s the matter, did I scare you away with all my yakking last week? Is that really why you haven’t been around Willa’s place?”
Any answer he might have given was lost in the laughter that went around the table after Tony exclaimed, “That was it, Collette. You made my brother blush in front of his crew with all your dirty talk.”
“You can take the girl out of Providence…” Mercy chortled after the laughter had ebbed.
“Tony says you ladies have known each other for a long time,” Julia said.
“Almost fifty years,” Audrey answered. “Except for Shirley. We adopted her a few years ago. It was something to do on a Tuesday.”
“Hey now,” Shirley said. “You know you love me.”
A server came around to offer coffee and juice. On his heels came another server who set down a platter of scrambled eggs and ham in the middle of the table. Another server delivered cornbread and clam cakes.
“Dig in before they take the platters away,” Collette encouraged with a gleeful smile. “Audrey, pass me the butter, please.”
As everyone filled their plates, Julia turned toward Willa. “Tony says these ladies have practically adopted you. It sounds like you all have a lot of fun together.”
Mercy chimed in before Willa could reply. “Actually, we only invited Willa into our group to make sure we’d have someone younger and healthier to drive us around to our doctor appointments and bingo games when we’re a bunch of old ladies.”
Another round of laughter ensued.
Willa pinned a smile on her face, playing along with the good-natured teasing. She saw what her friends were doing, steering attention away from her until she got her bearings. But that tactic could only play out for so long. She straightened her back and cleared her throat.
“Tony told me that you own an event business?” she asked Julia.
The other woman’s face brightened. “Yes. My parents started the business thirty years ago, and I purchased it from them last month so they can finally retire.”
“What kind of events do you do?”
“Both corporate and social events. Mostly parties and fundraisers. I’m not a wedding planner, thank God. You couldn’t pay me to do that. It’s crazy enough planning my own wedding, let alone someone else’s.”
“Have you set a date for your wedding yet?” Audrey inquired.
“A year from June. June twentieth.” She glanced at Joe, who was staring down at his plate, fork clutched tightly in his right hand. “We confirmed the date just last night, actually. We’ve been waiting to hear back from the church pastor. It was an exhausting process. We had to fill out a ton of paperwork and go through a few interviews.”
“Oh, yeah?” Collette said. “That sounds a little extreme. Must be a popular church?”
“St. Mary’s Church in Newport.” Julia’s face glowed as she looked around the table. “That’s where John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Bouvier were married. It’s been my mother’s dream for me to get married there!”
“Wow,” Shirley said with genuine awe. “Lucky you. My first husband and I got married at the Little White Wedding Chapel in Vegas. Seventy-five bucks, ten minutes, and we were done.”
Audrey snorted. “Did Elvis serenade you?”
“No. That would’ve cost another two hundred bucks. We blew all our money on the slots.” Shirley winked at Julia. “We were both twenty-one and feeling rebellious. Drove across the country in a silver Chevy Chevette, but we ran out of money for gas on the way back. Sold it to this old guy in Barstow who said he was an Indian Chief, and then we hitchhiked back to Rhode Island.”
Julia blinked.
“And that was just her first husband,” Mercy said.
“You girls should write a book about all your adventures,” Tony suggested.
Audrey shrugged one elegant shoulder. “If we did, it would have to have a warning label on it. Collette, pass me the maple syrup.”
“Where will the reception be?’ Mercy asked Julia.
Julia glanced at Joe again. This time he gave her a brief smile and draped his arm along the back of her chair. She smiled back before returning her gaze to Mercy. “Since I’m in the event business, and my own company would do the setup, we can afford to book one of the pricier venues. Plus, I’m an only child. My mom and dad want to give me the wedding of my dreams. I’d love to have it at one of the Newport mansions, or maybe at Blithewold Mansion in Bristol. My company is on the preferred vendor list at most of the locations I’m interested in.” She gave Joe an affectionate look. “Whatever we decide, we’ll have to send the deposit in within the next few weeks. These places book up quickly, especially for June.”
A shadow, so brief it was almost imperceptible, fell across Joe’s face. “We can talk about that tonight,” he murmured.
Julia knit her brow. She leaned closer to him and whispered something in his ear. He gave a swift shake of his head and a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring but looked stiff.
“Damn, that was wicked good,” Tony said, filling the strange silence that had settled around the table. “Anyone mind if I grab seconds?”
“Fine with me,” Collette said. “But save room for the apple pie.”
Julia was beautiful, Willa thought, sitting in silence as Collette drove them back to Conimicut. Both inside and out. Just as Willa had suspected.
Julia was several inches taller than Willa, slender with a graceful be
aring that hinted at ballet lessons somewhere in her youth. Long, sleek blond hair draped to her shoulders. Flirty bangs drew attention to unusual amber eyes and a generous mouth set in a heart-shaped face.
She had a sweet, kind face, a gentle manner. She was perfect for him…
“She’s too nice,” Collette said as they neared the house.
“There’s nothing wrong with being too nice,” Willa muttered.
“There is in the bedroom,” Collette retorted. “No man wants a nice girl in the bedroom. No matter how he says differently.”
“They look perfect together.”
“Like those figurines on top of a wedding cake. But they crack and lose their paint eventually.”
“You’re being very pessimistic.”
“Yes, I can be. I’m divorced. My ex cheated on me. I tell you, Willa, if I knew then what I know now… I sure as hell wish someone had told me I was making a mistake before I got married.”
“We have no right to interfere.”
“Hold that thought. Let’s wait until the girls get here.”
“They’re coming over?”
“Yep. We’re going to have a little powwow.”
“You can powwow all you want at your place. I’m going to my apartment.”
“Then we’ll come to you.”
Willa sighed. “You’ll be wasting your time.”
Five minutes later, all four women swept into Willa’s apartment and surrounded her where she sat in the lone armchair, arms folded stiffly across her chest.
“He spoke hardly one word—”
“Did you see the way he smiled at—”
“Tony looked mad as—”
“Willa, you cannot let—”
“Enough!” Willa held up her hands. “Sit down and shut up. All of you.”
They all stared at her, mouths agape. She’d never raised her voice at them like that before. After exchanging shocked glances with each other, they all sat down, Shirley and Collette on the loveseat, Mercy and Audrey on the ottoman.
Willa sighed. When she spoke, her voice was flat and even. “We cannot and will not interfere with Joe’s life. He’s made a commitment to Julia. He loves her.”