“Yes.” Kate glanced from Mrs. Johnson back to Isabelle. “Thank you both for all your work.”
“Dear, you’re welcome.” Mrs. Johnson folded her hands together at her chest. “Marriage is a special celebration. I just want you and Mark to have the most wonderful memories.”
Isabelle swallowed the rising lump in her throat. Too bad she couldn’t clone Mrs. Johnson.
“The games.” Mrs. Johnson, gasped, spinning around toward Isabelle, a panicked look on her face. “Dear, I don’t see game-sheets or pencils on the chairs.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.” Isabelle exchanged glances with Kate then nodded at Mrs. Johnson. “I’m on it.” She wormed her way back into the kitchen for the supplies.
As maid of honor, Isabelle knew how Cinderella felt. Finishing chores instead of mingling with the guests. Although, unlike Cinderella, there would be no Prince Charming in her future.
Sighing, she started back to the family room in time to hear the tail end of Mark’s latest introductions. “Everyone, these are some of my classmates.”
“One of Mark’s friends asked if you were here.” Mrs. Johnson caught Isabelle by the arm in the hallway. Isabelle didn’t need to guess who would be standing in the next room. Of course, Mark had invited his classmates. Why hadn’t she considered that? Better question: why hadn’t Kate told her?
Isabelle swung back to Mrs. Johnson, shoving the pencils and paper into her hand. “Do me a favor. Put these on the family room chairs.”
“Sure dear but don’t you want to know who asked about you?”
“No.” Isabelle barked then softened her tone. “I mean, I know who it is.”
Mrs. Johnson’s brow crinkled then. “Sounds like someone you’re not interested in.”
More perceptive than Isabelle thought. “Correct.”
“That’s a shame. He seems nice, and he’s quite handsome.” Mrs. Johnson squeezed Isabelle’s shoulder. “You know time is of the essence. The good men go fast.”
Isabelle coughed into her fist to cover a groan. She didn’t like the twinkle in Mrs. Johnson’s eyes. Or the wedding bells chiming in her own head.
“You just think about that, dear.” Mrs. Johnson shot her a wink over her shoulder as she pranced down the hall.
Nope. Thinking was dangerous.
Isabelle took a steadying breath and peeped around the corner, expecting to see Charlie’s infamous grin. Instead her attention rested on the woman beside him. Blonde, beautiful, and dressed in a black slinky dress. Apparently his girlfriend hadn’t read the invitation stating wedding shower and not cocktail party.
Jerking back, Isabelle slapped a hand across her chest to keep from hyperventilating. She glanced down at her simple cotton sundress, now wrinkled and damp. She smoothed the front with her fingers and adjusted her sash. As if that would help. She smelled like lemon-scented dish soap—or worse. She cringed. Then a thought bloomed. What if Charlie asked for her so he could introduce her to his girlfriend?
Isabelle bit back a sigh, but couldn’t restrain a groan when she thought about seeing Charlie put his arm around the woman or maybe even kiss her…
She sagged against the wall and took a slow breath. She didn’t care about Charlie. Just fleeting, delusional emotions and, although she snuffed them out, her ability to stand was sorely in question.
“Isabelle.”
Over the hum of chatter and laughter, Mrs. Johnson’s voice pulled her back. Isabelle tipped up her chin and strode forward, ignoring her still throbbing ankle. I can do this. Three strides later she was in the dining room.
“Isabelle, over here,” Mrs. Johnson called from across the room, frantically waving like one of Isabelle’s students eager to answer.
Feeling more like a reprimanded child than a teacher, Isabelle plowed through the crowd. A tremor of discomfort shivered up her spine. It intensified further when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”
Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. The day started out so well, her focus on Kate and the shower. No worries of her own. No lingering memories to contend with. Now, here she was sharing the afternoon with the one person she wanted to forget—and his girlfriend.
“Charlie,” she muttered, striving for an aloof tone.
He moved closer.
She held her breath and wet her lips, ready to face her antagonist. But when their gazes met, a rush of heat shot through her. It wasn’t due to the glint in his eyes or the onslaught of unwelcome memories. Rather the fact that any man with his girlfriend in such close proximity shouldn’t be looking at her like that.
“You’re a hard one to catch.” Charlie’s unabashed grin frustrated her further.
“I’ve been busy,” Isabelle blurted, hating the little catch in her voice.
“We still need to plan a time to get together.”
Not on your life, buster.
Mrs. Johnson scooted up beside her, sparing Isabelle the need to respond.
“There you are, dear. We’ll need another chair in the family room. Kate’s cousin Eileen showed up.”
Happy to oblige, Isabelle slipped out of Charlie’s clutch and stepped forward. “I’ll get right on it.”
“And, dear, while you’re in there, turn on the fan. With so many guests, the house might get stuffy.”
It already had. Isabelle fanned herself. She glanced at Charlie, his dark eyes studying her every move. Yep, definitely getting harder to breath.
Charlie spoke up. “Let me help, Isabelle.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need―”
“Don’t be silly,” Mrs. Johnson cut in, pushing Charlie toward the table. “Grab a plate and enjoy the snacks. Isabelle and I have been slaving in the kitchen, so please eat, eat, eat. I don’t want leftovers.”
Promptly, Isabelle moved down the hallway, willing herself to relax. Life with Charlie was over. Done. Kaput.
She stepped into the family room, and Kate swung in behind her. “Charlie showed up.”
No kidding. Isabelle grabbed a folding chair and set it against the wall. “Old news, Kate.”
“Sorry.” Kate came up beside her. “I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Thanks. I guess this is a better time to upset me?”
Kate shrugged.
Isabelle knew Kate meant no harm. She crossed the room, and switched on the fan. “Did you know Charlie brought his girlfriend?” The fan blades whirred overhead, and her head felt as if it was spinning, too. She drew in a weary breath, fighting a wave of nausea.
“He brought his girlfriend? Which one is she?”
How could she have missed her? Isabelle pressed a hand against her churning midsection. “Tall, blonde, beautiful. She was standing next to him when Mark introduced them.”
“Are you sure?” Kate scrunched her brow. “Mark thought Charlie wasn’t dating anyone now.”
“I saw them together at Tenille’s.”
“So. Maybe they were studying.”
Isabelle flapped a hand. “Never mind. You should get back to your guests.”
“I can’t leave you alone when you’re upset.”
“I’m fine. Besides, I’m glad Charlie’s here, for Mark’s—”
“Isabelle, the food is great. What did you make?” Charlie’s voice cut in.
On second thought, she wasn’t fine. Reluctantly, Isabelle faced Charlie. He balanced an overflowing plate in his hand but, fortunately, no blonde babe on his arm. She felt a little better.
“Isabelle made everything,” Kate answered for her. “Mark’s mother can’t cook.” Slick as a snake she edged toward the door, giving Isabelle a wink as she skittered out.
Hey, what did you say about leaving me? Isabelle’s almost blurted out, but that wouldn’t be fair. It was Kate’s party.
“Isabelle, you look nice.”
Ignoring Charlie, Isabelle turned and started arranging gifts. Large ones on the bottom, smaller on top, gift bags and cards i
n the front.
She felt a touch on her arm and winced. “What?” She immediately regretted the snap in her voice. After all, Charlie was a guest. Turning back to him, she forced a smile. “You should take a seat. The games will start soon.”
“Where are you sitting?” He popped a stuffed-mushroom into his mouth.
Isabelle bit back a snort. Here he was totally relaxed, asking where she’d be sitting, with his girlfriend in the next room. Some nerve.
She adjusted the sash on her dress, and although tempted to say, “Forget you ever knew me.” She refrained as guests filtered into the room. “I’ll be leading the games.” She kept her voice calm. “Have a seat over there.” She pointed to the chairs on the left.
“Let’s start the games.” Mrs. Johnson clapped twice.
Isabelle could have hugged her.
Charlie nudged her with his elbow. “Let’s talk before I leave.”
From the unmistakable glint in his eyes, he obviously thought she would oblige. She gave him a look meant to shout, “Are you out of your mind?” before jerking her gaze from his. Why couldn’t he take a hint? Wasn’t as if she’d been friendly. In fact, she’d been downright standoffish. Something she’d probably worked too hard at. Forgive and forget came to mind. Like that was easy.
While Mrs. Johnson waded through the crowd and assigned seats, Isabelle noticed the blonde stop and whisper in Charlie’s ear. Whatever words he spoke back sent her turning on her heel and plopping in a seat across from him. Isabelle shifted her focus, refusing to speculate.
“OK, everyone.” She tried to exert some enthusiasm into her voice. “The first game is Complete This Sentence. Everyone has a game-sheet. You’ll have three minutes to complete the sentences.” Isabelle unfolded her answer sheet. “Here’s an example. “A penny saved is a...”
“Penny earned,” came the group reply.
“OK, get started. Winners receive a fabulous prize.”
Three minutes later, Mrs. Johnson clapped again. A mixture of groans and chuckles followed.
Isabelle surveyed the crowd, purposely not glancing Charlie’s way. “Let’s start with the groom.”
Mark nodded. “I only knew three.”
More than she expected. “Go ahead.”
“Variety is exciting.”
The crowd roared. Isabelle shook her head. “Sorry, it’s ‘variety is the spice of life.’”
“That’s what I meant.” Mark wagged his head and laughed.
“Keep going.” From the corner of her eye, Isabelle caught Charlie staring at her. She wanted to swat him like a pesky fly.
“OK.” Mark looked at his paper. “Behind every successful man is a beautiful woman.” He waggled his eyebrows at Kate.
“Close.” Kate winked back then smiled at Isabelle. “I think we should give him that one.”
Isabelle agreed, of course. “Behind every successful man is a great woman. But since you’re the groom…” She regarded Mrs. Johnson, who nodded back. “Two points for Mark.”
Mark stood and took a bow then recited his next proverb. “A marriage made in heaven.”
Amid applause and whistles, Mark jogged over to Kate and smooched her cheek.
How cute. Isabelle couldn’t resist applauding.
“Smile, soon-to-be-newlyweds.” Aiming the camera, Mrs. Johnson scampered back a couple steps and knocked into Isabelle.
Tottering sideways, Isabelle grabbed the back of an armchair and regained her balance, grateful she hadn’t ended up on the floor. The last thing she needed was more help from Charlie.
She took a shaky breath and unwrinkled the answer sheet. “Who’s next?”
Mark’s friend Ben’s sheepish grin caught her attention. “Ben.”
Eyebrows raised, Ben blushed. “Actually I only knew one. My house is your house.”
More hoots and applause. Ben’s face grew redder as he motioned to Charlie. “Let’s see if our star study partner did any better.”
Before she could comment, Charlie lifted his head and caught her gaze. “I have two. True love conquers all.” More applause.
“Correct.” She tore her eyes from his. Not impressed. That was easy.
He cleared his throat then continued, “The path of true love is through forgiveness.”
Isabelle jerked her attention back, Charlie grinned at her like he’d won a spelling bee.
Sly. She got the hint, as if the man could read her mind. She almost felt embarrassed. “No, that’s the—”
“Wrong answer, Charlie. Although, you’re correct about forgiveness.” The blonde piped up.
Whether the woman referred to personal issues, Isabelle couldn’t tell until she saw Charlie thump back in his chair and cross his arms.
“Erica, I’m glad you agree.” No hint of emotion. Only a faint blush on his cheeks. Embarrassment? Or annoyance? Isabelle wasn’t sure.
Still, it didn’t take a detective to spot a lover’s quarrel between Charlie and Erica. Not pretty.
Isabelle looked away, fighting the urge to cringe. “The correct answer is, ‘the path to true love is never smooth.’ Who’s next?” Her gaze slipped past Charlie to the men seated around him.
“How about half credit?” Charlie’s voice rose above the hubbub.
Isabelle’s heart skipped a beat.
Mark laughed. “Charlie’s known for challenging the teacher for partial credit. Something my grade point average and I appreciate.”
Another clap from Mrs. Johnson ricocheted through the room. “No partial credit today. Let’s get on with the fun.”
When the games ended, the women led the men three to two. Mrs. Johnson announced the winners. “Abby, Beth, and Sarah receive a gift card from Tenille’s. Now everyone to the dining room for more refreshments.”
Isabelle breathed relief.
8
The guests filed out of the family room, but Charlie hung back. He leaned against the doorframe between the family room and kitchen. Crossing his arms, he waited while Isabelle, on the far side of the room, spoke to Mark’s mother. Lips parted into a smile, she nodded at something the older woman said. Now this, he thought, was the Isabelle he remembered. Sweet and helpful to everyone...well, except him.
Frustration and disappointment wrapped around Charlie’s chest like a rubber band. He breathed deeply and let it out in a sigh. Isabelle’s grudge seemed to be set in stone. Although he had overheard her mention to Kate that she was glad he showed up.
Progress, he hoped.
He glanced over his shoulder, happy to see Erica mingling with guests in the dining room. If nothing else, he appreciated that she preferred to be cordial in public. Still he never knew when she’d blow her keeping up appearances cover, something he’d witnessed more times than he cared to remember.
His concern must have showed because Mark stepped up and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You OK?”
“Yeah, fine.” Charlie nodded his head, hoping to convey nonchalance.
Mark nodded and moved on. Charlie stood there, his hands shoved low in the pockets of his jeans. He shifted on his feet. A moment passed then another, as he waited for Mrs. Johnson to finish her conversation with Isabelle. He nodded as the older woman passed him on her way toward the dining room. She paused long enough to lift a brow. “Charlie, make sure you get something to eat.”
“Thanks, I’ll be right there.” Right after he had a little chitchat with Isabelle. He waited a moment longer. Just watching Isabelle lifted his heart. With her back to him he couldn’t help but appreciate her beauty. Shapely legs, slender waist, delicate shoulders. He gave his head a quick shake, his ability to think seriously compromised.
Focus. He swallowed, stepped into the room, and headed straight toward Isabelle.
“Hey, can I help with anything?”
Isabelle stopped straightening the chairs. “Thank you, but I’m finished.” She said as she turned to face him. The corners of her mouth quirked up for a split second and then faded.
“You’ve b
een quite the hostess.” He made a small gesture around the room. “The games, the food. It’s been fun.”
Fiddling with the pencils in her hand, she shrugged. “Thanks, I’m glad you’re enjoying the shower.”
He took a step. “I am. But actually the reason I came was to see you.”
A pause. Isabelle’s gaze dropped, and he watched her shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate statement.”
“It’s a true statement.” Charlie moved closer, two steps from her now. Close enough to smell the sweet scent of her perfume. He inhaled, tempted to brush aside the silky hair dangling against her cheek. He blinked. Too soon. He blew out a breath. “Isabelle, I really want to make things right between us.”
“Charlie, I don’t understand what you’re after.” Isabelle’s soft voice and the distress in her eyes as she lifted her gaze, tugged at Charlie’s heart.
She really didn’t trust him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Charlie opened his mouth to tell Isabelle how much he still cared about her, when the sound of scampering footsteps drew near. A second later, Mrs. Johnson poked her head into the room.
“Isabelle, could you help me in the kitchen?”
“Certainly.” Isabelle nodded at the woman. She turned and gestured toward the doorway. “I need to go.”
He watched her leave, sure of one thing. He was still in love with Isabelle Crafton.
****
Isabelle opened the trashcan and tugged out the bulging bag. She tied the ends together as the lid clanked shut.
“Hurry and finish with the trash. It’s about time for the lovebirds to open their gifts.” Mrs. Johnson was filling one of the crystal ice buckets.
“Aye, Captain.” Isabelle wanted to salute. Instead, she opened the back door.
Mrs. Johnson chuckled. “When you get back you can swab the deck.”
“Always something to look forward to.” Isabelle forced a chuckle and shut the door. Taking a breath, she slumped up against it for a second. Despite the fact that her heart was battered and bruised, she was holding it together. She had to put on a happy face for Kate’s sake. Tears flooded her eyes, and she blinked hard to deter them. Lord, help me move on in my life and not stay stuck in the pain of the past.
Tapestry of Trust Page 7