Twice Upon a Wedding

by Jean Stone

  Elaine smiled. She was glad Jo had told the others about Andrew’s confession, that anger had turned to gratitude once they all knew the details.

  Lily sighed. “But he was great as a gay man. Now he’s just like one of the rest.”

  A moment of sadness passed over the group.

  “At least he didn’t leave us,” Lily said. “And neither did you, Sarah.” Sarah had made her decision not to go to New York—at least for now. Her relationship with Jason teeter-tottered, but Sarah said life happened that way sometimes. Burch would go with his dad for as long as it worked, Sarah said, with a catch in her throat.

  So much for tranquility, Elaine thought, but instead she said, “I wish Andrew would come out and take a few deserved bows.” She’d let him off the first-dance hook. He’d worked so quietly, diligently, these past few weeks. Yet he’d said it would be better if he blended into the woodwork, or, in this case, into the stonework.

  Then Elaine saw Jo take a last look at the gala, close her silver shawl around her, and disappear into the night.

  Elaine smiled, hoping her instincts were right about what would happen next.

  She looked back to the sky, to the spiderwebs of silver etched on the darkness. The guests were mesmerized. Standing by the white-velvet-draped sleigh, Irene and John held hands. Cassie stood in front of them, cradled from the cold. Andrew, Elaine thought, was doing a wonderful job raising his daughter.

  Elaine had done a good job, too, at this first event for McNulty’s Catering. Most importantly, she’d done the cooking herself, helped out by her staff, with no outside chef, no outside caterer. When she’d told her father what she wanted to do, he had tried to talk her out of it. Then Mrs. Tuttle—Larry—called and told Elaine that if she wanted, they could cancel the cruise, that she knew Bob would much rather be cooking with her.

  Elaine had thanked her, but she’d said no. Then Larry promised to make him visit whenever he was needed, to supervise if she wanted, as her special consultant.

  Not that Elaine wasn’t turning out every bit as accomplished as her father, or so everyone said.

  Before the fireworks ended, before the New Year rang in, Elaine stepped back into the ballroom to check on the pastries and coffee.

  “All set, Mom,” Karen said. She’d been in charge of the presentations of teacakes and butter cookies, all white and silver, all lusciously tempting.

  “Here, too,” Kory replied. He’d been given the task of the silver carafes and fine-china cups.

  “And in the kitchen,” Kandie said. Elaine still couldn’t believe Kandie had pitched in. Kids did the damnedest things when you left them alone.

  “Does anyone mind, then, if I go home?” There had been chaos in the house for over a week; there were remnants in the refrigerator of Christmas dinner (“test runs” of the Bensons’ menu) that needed cleaning out; there were piles of gifts from Bob and Larry and even from Lloyd (and Beatrix) that still needed sorting . . . the only thing missing was Bob’s book from Patsy’s Restaurant—he’d been sure to pack that for the cruise.

  Best of all, Elaine had told her father she was sorry. She was sorry for the past years; she was sorry for so many things.

  He had simply held her and told her that he loved her and said she’d done what seemed right at the time.

  Which, Elaine supposed, was what everyone did. And now it seemed right to do something else.

  “Go home,” Karen said. “Everything’s under control.”

  So Elaine said good night, then took off her heels and dumped them into her bag. She had one stop to make on the way home, and there was no need to be gussied up.

  “Martin,” she said as he came to the door. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  He wore an old threadbare bathrobe, the kind a bachelor might have bought twenty or more years ago, yet was still functional. “I was watching the ball drop in Times Square,” he said. “Three minutes to go.”

  “Feel like some company?” she asked. He was, after all, such a nice, caring man. And Elaine no longer was afraid of what life would bring. She might not end up like them all—Lily, Sarah, and Jo—but she could be Elaine, and maybe that was okay. Maybe she’d even buy a few more new clothes—maybe a few things in bright colors, and a few with some splash.

  Of all the things in the world women can have, I think they want love, respect, and peace.

  Maybe, after all, they’re the things that men want, too.

  Maybe we should work on giving them to one other.

  Andrew formed the thoughts of his next column as he stood at the far end of the ballroom, protected by the shadow of the balcony, peeking at the fireworks as if he were an intruder.

  “There you are.”

  He turned and saw Jo, so lovely in silver and white, so lovely in the moonlight sprinkled by the fireworks and the stars.

  “Jo.”

  She smiled. “In case I didn’t say thank you: thank you. For this opportunity. For this gorgeous wedding.”

  He shrugged. “You girls are the ones who pulled it off.”

  She smiled again. She looked toward the window. “Remember the first time we came here?” she asked.

  “And poor Martha Holland thought we were a couple.” The words popped out before he’d thought about their implications, about the reminder that he’d lived so many months in so many lies.

  Jo lowered her eyes. “It would have been nice if we were,” she said.

  Perhaps he’d heard wrong. Perhaps the cracks of the fireworks as they shattered the darkness had distorted his hearing.

  “What?” Andrew asked, but then Jo turned to him and her lips were on his and his were on hers and there was no rowboat rocking and there were no orange life vests to come between them and, finally, this wasn’t a dream.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  TWICE UPON A WEDDING is Jean Stone’s twelfth novel from Bantam Books, and the second in the series about the women of Second Chances. A native of western Massachusetts, Ms. Stone sets her books in familiar places—this one in the picturesque Berkshire Hills. Her Yankee grandfather was an engineer on the Boston & Albany and New York Central Railroads, and she has drawn from many of his stories (“tall tales,” some folks believed) to enrich her New England settings. For more information on the author and her books, visit her web site at www.jeanstone.net.

  OTHER BOOKS BY JEAN STONE

  ONCE UPON A WEDDING

  BEACH ROSES

  TRUST FUND BABIES

  OFF SEASON

  THE SUMMER HOUSE

  TIDES OF THE HEART

  BIRTHDAY GIRLS

  PLACES BY THE SEA

  IVY SECRETS

  FIRST LOVES

  SINS OF INNOCENCE

  Praise for the Novels of

  Jean Stone

  BEACH ROSES

  “Rich in both humorous moments and sobering turns, Stone’s novel shows that true friendship knows no bounds.” —Booklist

  “Beach Roses is a poignant story of relationships and camaraderie. The characterization is flawless, and the pages turn easily to the end.” —Romance Reviews Today

  TRUST FUND BABIES

  “If you like a good tale with strong women characters, in which love and loyalty battle grim reality and win . . . Trust Fund Babies fits the bill!” —America Online’s Romance Fiction Forum

  “Witnessing these three women maintain their composure in the midst of such great tribulations was fascinating to read. Just when you think their bonds are subject to being broken, each woman surprises you by becoming a better friend.” —Romantic Times

  “The characters earn your compassion.” —Rendezvous

  OFF SEASON

  “A thought-provoking contemporary romance that explores relationships and leaves the reader satisfied.” —Brazosport Facts

  “In this highly readable story, in a plausible ending, love heals.” —Romantic Times

  “Jean Stone has outdone herself this time. The emotion in this book left me wanting more. Ms. Stone
has another winner.” —Rendezvous

  “Ms. Stone develops striking imagery and flawless dialogue through her unique writing style, which, through its sheer simplicity manages to convey deep emotion and feeling. Her masterful storytelling explores themes of love, friendship, trust and loyalty in a thought-provoking tale you will not soon forget. Treat yourself to Off Season—you won’t regret it!” —Romance Reviews Today

  THE SUMMER HOUSE

  “Stone is a talented novelist whose elegant prose brings the Martha’s Vineyard setting vividly to life. The Summer House is a very good read.” —Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

  “Secrets, lies and sacrifices make up a boiling cauldron of intense emotions in Jean Stone’s dramatic saga.” —Romantic Times

  “Ms. Stone gives her readers another romantic, heart-tugging gem.” —Rendezvous

  More Praise for

  Jean Stone

  “Stone’s graceful prose, vivid imagery and compassionately drawn characters make this one a standout.” —Publishers Weekly on Tides of the Heart

  “You will always remember the characters. It’s a sensational book.” —Rendezvous on Tides of the Heart

  “Jean Stone is a truly gifted writer. I wish I could claim her as a long lost sister, but I can’t. I can merely enjoy her wonderful talent.” —Nationally bestselling author Katherine Stone

  “Imagine a follow-up star vehicle to The First Wives Club for Diane Keaton and Bette Midler (Goldie Hawn loses out—replaced by Whitney Houston perhaps) . . . [an] engaging read.” —Publishers Weekly on Birthday Girls

  “Jean Stone . . . again weaves magic in Birthday Girls . . . a fantastic ending . . . a story that touches the soul.” —Rendezvous

  “It’s about time someone wrote a good book about women approaching fifty. Stone has her own voice in Women’s Fiction.” —Judy Spagnola from Book Trends

  “Compelling.” —Orlando Sentinel on Places by the Sea

  “I loved Ivy Secrets . . . an intricate, enthralling and intensely emotional tapestry of secrets, passion and love—with characters so engaging, so compelling, that you won’t want to put it down. A terrific, don’t-miss book! I’m on my way to the bookstore—right now—to find her previous two books.” —Nationally bestselling author Katherine Stone

  “This is one of the most compelling, evocative, heartrending tomes I’ve ever read and one I’ll always remember. Kudos to the talented author.” —Rendezvous on Sins of Innocence

  “Jean Stone tackled a very controversial subject and has written a story that beautifully illustrates the deep emotional scars such a loss can leave on the human psyche. Sins of Innocence is a wrenching and emotionally complex story. Sometimes, if you are very lucky, you can build a bridge across all obstacles. A very touching read.” —Romantic Times

  “This one is emotionally consuming. This one pulls you in and doesn’t let you go as the splendid characters absorb you into their lives.” —Rendezvous on Places by the Sea

  And look for the first tale of the

  Second Chances women in . . .

  ONCE UPON

  A BRIDE

  by

  Jean Stone

  On sale now

  Read on for a preview . . .

  ONCE UPON A BRIDE

  On sale now

  That’s the ugliest wedding gown I’ve ever seen,” Sarah said. She leaned back in her chair, her long black hair swaying with her movement, her dark eyes blinking with acerbity. “I can’t wait to see what she’s picked out for us.”

  Jo wanted to agree, but didn’t dare. Elaine was only in the ladies’ room and could return any moment. Sarah was right, however, the gown was horrible.

  Lily shook her head, her short blond curls bouncing like little clouds of milkweed puffs against her pink cheeks. “We can’t let her do it,” she whispered in horror as she plucked the bridal magazine from the table at Le Fusion, the latest boutique restaurant in the small New England town that had once been quaint but was now tourist-choked. “She never had great taste in college. I guess that hasn’t changed in all these years.” She turned to Jo. “Josephine?” she asked as if awaiting confirmation.

  Reaching for her wineglass, Jo glanced over at the picture of white satin bouffant with pink and blue organza roses set into excessive ruffles of tulle. The gown looked foolish, even on the angelic, eighteen-year-old model. On over-forty Elaine, it would look asinine.

  Across the restaurant, Elaine emerged from the ladies’ room. Her lavender polyester pants were too short, her eighties-style hair was dyed too brown and was too big. Yet Elaine marched along with happy steps, nodding and smiling as she passed the other luncheoning ladies who wore golf skorts and straw hats and had shopping bags from Ann Taylor and Lladró and Ralph Lauren. When Elaine reached her former college roommates, the women she’d selected as her bridesmaids for her “second-time around,” she dropped onto her chair with relief.

  “Mercy,” she said, fanning herself lightly. “I’m not used to drinking in the middle of the day.” She smoothed the front of the pink-and-lavender-flowered big shirt, then adjusted her double-strand necklace of red and pink beads and the large dangle earrings that matched. Sort of.

  Jo’s eyes moved from flighty, elflike Lily to pensive, statuesque Sarah, extremes in looks and personalities, right and left wing, while Jo kept to the middle, with Elaine a few feet behind. Now Lily and Sarah expected Jo to break the news to Elaine. As the leader in the middle, it had always been Jo’s role to be the obligatory mediator, the one with the most sense. Two decades apparently hadn’t changed that, either. She sipped her wine. “Elaine, honey,” she said gently, “have you thought about getting professional help?”

  Sarah nearly spit her wine across the table.

  Lily’s pink lips peeled back in a grimace, revealing professionally whitened, perfectly straight teeth.

  Jo smiled. “For the wedding,” she continued. “Someone like a wedding planner.”

  She might have said that one of Elaine’s three kids had been arrested on drug-trafficking charges, given the bewildered look Elaine wore on her face. Then Elaine’s eyes fell to the magazine that Lily still clutched. A wide grin appeared. “It’s the white, isn’t it? You think I shouldn’t wear white!” She laughed a jovial laugh, then drank more of the wine she wasn’t used to drinking in the middle of the day. “Well, this might surprise you, but I read that white no longer is a symbol of virginity. It now stands for ‘joy.’ I guess they had to change it because there are no virgins left in the world.”

  She drank again. No one laughed.

  Jo leaned forward. “It’s not the white, Elaine. It’s the flowers. And the ruffles. And the, well, the little girl look. I know it’s not fair. But even though there are tons of second and even third weddings, it still seems that all the books and magazines—and most of the fashions—are geared to twenty-year-olds.” She hoped she’d made her point without hurting Elaine’s feelings.

  Elaine’s wine-pinkened cheeks slowly darkened to red. Even her Miss Clairol-ed hair seemed to deepen a shade. She snatched the magazine from Lily’s hands. “I’m not entitled to the wedding of my dreams just because I’m over forty?” She didn’t have to mention that she’d been cheated out of a wedding when she’d married Lloyd because they’d still been in college and Elaine had been pregnant, so they’d married in haste at the town hall. The redness abated and fat tears slid down her cheeks.

  Lily produced a clean lace hankie from her Asprey purse.

  Elaine waved it away, then reached into her crocheted tote bag and located a travel pack of Kleenex. She blew her nose loudly.

  The waitress appeared bearing three oriental chicken salads with dressing on the side, and a veggie platter for Sarah.

  “Maybe we can help,” Jo suggested once the waitress had left. “After all, as your bridesmaids, we have a vested interest.” She grinned and patted Elaine’s hand. “It’s a little more than three months until the wedding, right?”

  “I didn’t want to wai
t,” she said apologetically.

  “Three months is acceptable,” Lily interjected. “Only first-time brides need a year or more to plan.”

  Lily, of course, would know.

  “Then we will do it in three months,” Jo said. “Lainey, let us be your wedding planners.”

  Elaine blinked. “My ‘wedding planners’? But you live in Boston.”

  Jo cleared her throat. “Actually, I’ve been thinking I might come back for a while. My mother’s getting older . . . I want to be sure she can still live on her own.” She tried to sound casual and hoped the others didn’t notice the tremor that had sneaked into her voice.

  “You might come back to West Hope?” Elaine asked. “But what about your business? What about your career?”

  Despite a degree in elementary education, Elaine had only taught fourth grade between her second and third kids, then gave up on working altogether. For the past several years she volunteered part-time at the library and served on countless town boards, but as far as Jo knew, Elaine had no interest in business or careers, certainly not Jo’s.

  Folding her hands, Jo forced her best smile. “I’ve been thinking about branching out. The Berkshires could use a strong public relations firm. Attractions have grown. Tourism has escalated. We’ll soon outpace any New England venue except the Cape and islands.” All of which had little to do with Jo’s recent debate with herself about moving back. The truth was, her life was no longer the same, and “home” was what now seemed safe. The others, however, did not need to know that. “But I haven’t decided. In the meantime,” she added quickly, “planning your wedding would be fun.” She turned to Sarah. “You’re so creative, Sarah. If I organize the wedding, maybe you can make it magical. Elaine’s dream come true.”

  “I design jewelry,” Sarah protested. “Not wedding dresses and reception halls.”

  Elaine lowered her eyes.

  Sarah shifted on her chair. “Well,” she added, “I suppose I could try.”