“And who are you to talk?” she said bitterly.
“The guy who gave you the first well, the first fish, and wood for a cold night.”
His blunt answer knocked the snotty reply from her lips. It was true. Greg had done exactly what he expected Jeff to do, only he’d done it with her fighting him the whole way.
She stared down at the floor. “How do you know Jeff wasn’t coming to do the same? He blew up at me before he even said why he had come.”
“That’s how I know,” Greg said. “I waited behind that door, givin’ him a chance to repair things. Believe me. He wasn’t here to repair.”
She hugged herself. Everything was so backward and upside-down, she didn’t know what to think. And frankly, she was too tired to figure it out on her own anymore.
“He wants me to choose,” she said softly. “Between you and them.”
“And you actually have to think about it?”
For the first time, Greg looked hurt.
Her throat swelled shut. She wanted to choose Greg, she wanted to go to the wedding, but she was scared of why. Scared of Greg. Scared of things Mariah said and Amber wanted. Of Oliver. Everything that had happened since Greg Pierce moved in became a yelling match in her head, and it pounded with confusion.
He yanked the door open. “See you around. Or maybe not.”
“Thank you for the wood,” she said quietly.
He stopped but didn’t turn.
“And for the well. And the fish. And…” She bit her lip. “And helping Zach with baseball and protecting Amber all this time.” The faster the memories flowed, the faster the words tumbled out. “And for sticking up for me at that meeting, and against Jeff, and…” She couldn’t spit out Oliver’s name, or the fact that Greg was the sole reason they were about to have their first date. “And I’m sorry I didn’t finish your haircut.”
He slammed the door shut. “Why, Carrie? Why are you always sorry? Is it your fault you didn’t finish?”
“No.”
“So quit apologizing and accept life for what it is.”
“I’m sorry, but”—she winced, realizing what she’d said—“saying I’m sorry is my way of saying I wish things were different. I wish I could make them better.”
He leaned against the wall. “In that case, I’m sorry about Jeff.”
They stood in heavy silence for a time, both staring at the floor before Greg looked back up at her.
“In spite of what you might think,” he said, “or what I mighta said just now, I understand why you gotta choose Jenna. My mom will, too. Don’t feel bad about the wedding.”
“I…” Carrie cringed, anticipating major backfire for what she was about to say, but the yelling match had ended in her head, and while she didn’t completely understand why, she’d made her decision. “I’m not choosing them.”
His eyes widened.
She studied the carpet, wondering if Jeff or Jenna would ever forgive her. But the longer it sat in her gut, the more right it felt. She had helped Jeff and Jenna time and time again, yet every time it came back to slap her in the face. Making her choose sides? As if she was in first grade and not a grown woman? And really, she was choosing more than Greg anyway. She was choosing Mariah and Richard, May and CJ.
“I’d still like to come to the wedding,” she said. “If that’s alright.”
She risked a glance up. Greg looked absolutely floored.
“You sure?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted.
“Yeah, you are.” The corners of his mouth twitched upward. “I can tell. Wow. You just picked me over a sick, pregnant lady.”
“Oh, man. Don’t say it like that.”
“No, no. I’m kinda likin’ this. Greg over Jenna. This is new.” He squared his shoulders, standing taller. “I better go before you change your mind, or my mom kills me. Though once she sees me bald, she still might.”
“It actually doesn’t look that bad. Your hair, I mean.” Or at least she didn’t think so. It wasn’t combed the right way, but it still looked great. Greg always looked great. “I was almost done anyway.”
“Yeah?” He ran both hands over his hair. “It’s short,” he said in surprise.
“Yes. Sorry.”
He shot her another look. “I was just makin’ a comment. I didn’t know you liked my hair short, that’s all. Where’s a mirror?”
“No!” she said desperately. “Look at it when you get home. I don’t want to see your reaction.”
He smiled. “You still scared of me or somethin’?”
“Very.”
“Well then…” He whipped out his Yankees cap and shoved it on his head.
She shook her head. “Apparently, I’m not the only one lacking confidence in my abilities.”
“Since you won’t let me see a mirror, this’ll have to do until I see it for myself. But don’t worry. You’ll know my reaction soon enough. If I’m bald at the wedding, you’ll know why. See ya in a few.”
Carrie watched Greg jog out into the falling snow.
A few?
Remembering her own mop of hair, she dashed upstairs.
forty-three
“THERE,” AMBER SAID. “Now Greg won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
Carrie leaned toward the mirror, unsure what to think about Amber’s hard work. Amber had swept Carrie’s still-damp hair off her neck in a twisty style that left a few curls loose—which how Amber had forced curls out of her wavy hair, she wasn’t sure. But it was the eyes that scared Carrie. Amber had “smoked” them, lining them with leftover coals from the fire—a technique she’d practiced with her friends. Between that and her mother’s blue blouse, Carrie’s eyes screamed for attention.
Greg would definitely notice.
She grabbed a wet towel to wipe them off. “I look ridiculous.”
“No, don’t!” Amber snatched the towel from her. “You look great. I’m telling you, Greg won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
“First off, Greg only has eyes for a southern girl. Secondly, I should be trying to impress Oliver anyway. And thirdly…” She wrapped an arm around Amber’s waist and looked in the mirror. “I’ll always look plain next to my gorgeous little sister, and I’m okay with that.”
Amber leaned over the counter and drew more charcoal on her own eyes. Unlike Carrie who had her hair pulled back, Amber’s dark hair was down and brushed to a shiny mahogany, setting off her dark lashes. The burgundy dress looked great on her, too, flowing and curving in all the right spots. Still, Amber looked dissatisfied.
“I wish I had blush,” she said, pinching her cheeks. “It’s not fair. I was never old enough to wear makeup before.”
Carrie pushed her hands down. “Makeup is for plain women like me with scrawny eyelashes and freckles.”
“No one but you thinks you’re plain, Carrie. Like I said, Greg won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”
“Stop, Amber,” Carrie said sternly. “Seriously. You promised.”
“Whatever. I saw him downstairs.” Amber grinned. “He likes you.”
“Amber!”
“What? I know men.”
Carrie huffed. “At sixteen, you better not. You scare me.”
“No. The truth scares you.”
Amber jumped out of the way before Carrie could smack her. Then Amber ran a brush one last time through her long hair. “Do you think Braden will ask me to dance?”
Carrie laid her chin on her shoulder. The two sisters, who looked as different as sisters could, took one last look in the mirror. “Just flash Braden a few of your beautiful smiles and pay close attention. Then you won’t have any doubts about how he feels.”
Amber gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, sis.”
The two of them grabbed Carrie’s blanket and huddled underneath to run down Woodland Drive. Their feet were soaked and freezing by the time they reached the Trenton’s, but their hair stayed dry.
The front door flew open even before they knocked,
as if someone had been watching for them.
Oliver.
“Hi, Amber and…” Oliver’s eyes found Carrie and widened to large circles.
Amber elbowed Carrie with an I-told-you-so look.
Carrie’s stomach did a little flip.
Let the date begin.
She resisted the urge to pat her overdone updo and rub off her smoked look.
“Hi, Oliver,” she said.
“You look, um…” Oliver swallowed.
“…nice?” Amber offered.
Oliver nodded quickly, which made Carrie blush.
“Thanks. You do, too,” Carrie said, even though he looked like he always did: green uniform, dark hair brushed over his bald spot, and a heavy pull to his prematurely graying brow.
Amber’s nails suddenly dug into Carrie’s arm. Carrie turned to see Braden crossing the crowded room toward them. By the time he reached them, his eyes were as wide as Oliver’s, only unlike Oliver, he retained the ability to speak.
“Wow, Amber. Just wow.” He smiled, showing the small chip in his tooth. “You look gorgeous.”
Amber gave the most controlled, stunning smile Carrie had ever seen. “Thank you, Braden.”
“I saved a spot for you up front if you want to sit by me,” he said. Then he held out his hand.
Carrie felt Amber stiffen. Though she and Braden had flirted privately, holding hands in public would leave no doubts about them being a couple. Not even for Amber.
A smile tugged on Amber’s mouth, and suddenly she was glowing. She slid her fingers into his. “That would be great.”
Warmth filled Carrie’s chest as she watched them make their way to the two seats up front. Until she remembered she was on a date.
Maybe.
Oliver stood next to Carrie, watching Amber and Braden as well. “They make a nice couple,” he said.
Carrie looked up in surprise. “Yes, they do.”
His sweet comment relaxed her shoulders. She could do this.
With a deep breath, she caught the sweet, floral scent in May’s house. She couldn’t see Greg or the rest of the Trentons, but as she hoped, flowers brightened every corner of the home. The flowers, along with the overhead lights, were the only decorations for the wedding, the only sign that today was different from any other day. Most everyone wore their work clothes, but a few like Amber and Carrie wore nicer shirts or dresses. It looked like everyone had already arrived.
Almost everyone, she corrected with a pang.
Though she knew better, she searched for Jeff, Jenna, Little Jeffrey, and Jonah. Nowhere. But in the process, she spotted someone else, someone she’d never seen before. An older gentleman stood in the far corner, picking at his fingernails.
“You found someone?” she said to Oliver. Last she heard, Oliver was going to perform the short wedding himself. Richard and Mariah—or more accurately Greg and Oliver—would find a way to make it official later.
“Yes,” Oliver said. “He’s an old judge. I talked it over with Richard, and he seemed okay with it. Don’t worry, he won’t bother anyone. He’s, uh…” He paused. “He’s kind of my uncle.”
Her brows lifted. Not only was Oliver’s relative in May’s living room, but the wedding suddenly felt official. She studied the older judge, trying to spot any family resemblance. He was near May and CJ’s age, though portly, with a round face. He and Oliver looked nothing alike.
“That’s great,” she said anyway. “I hope you’ll introduce me.”
Oliver swallowed again. “Uh, okay.”
Carrie fidgeted with her blouse. She stunk at first dates. Always had and always would.
Resisting the urge to run, she said, “Do you want to sit by me and Zach?”
Nodding, Oliver followed her between the rows of people and mismatched chairs. Everyone had brought their chairs to the adult meeting the night before, and they’d been split down the middle, forming a small aisle in May’s front room. Carrie sat next to Zach, and Oliver sat next to her. Sasha caught Carrie’s eye from the across the row and motioned to Oliver with a quick thumbs up, almost like she knew it was a date. Did she know? It felt like everyone watched them, probably curious after the blowup with Jeff.
“When are you planting the early crops?” Oliver asked.
“Hopefully tomorrow,” Carrie said. “If it warms up. Although I feel so far behind on the field, I might have to spend a few days digging before it’s ready.”
He nodded. “And how are your peas?”
Turning, she regarded Oliver, wondering how he knew about the peas in her yard. “They’re great. About five inches now.”
“Does…does the snow hurt them?” he asked.
“Not much.”
“Oh, that’s good. I was worried.”
About my peas?
That reinforced it. Carrie would definitely take Oliver’s goodness. He was too good, too accommodating, and she felt guilty for not being the same in return.
“Do you like to fish?” she asked suddenly.
He gave her a strange look. “No. Why?”
Before she could answer, CJ cleared his throat from the back of the room. “Good evening. Thank you all for coming on this snowy, wonderful day. It’s time to get started.”
On cue, the whole Trenton family entered the kitchen behind CJ. Carrie spotted Greg and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He wasn’t bald. In fact, with his short hair combed the right direction, he looked great. He wore his dark green, button-down shirt coupled with one of CJ’s blue ties. Under normal circumstances the two would have clashed, but Greg made them look good.
Next to him, May wore her pink dress and a tear-filled smile. And next to May stood Richard and Mariah, breaking from tradition as they appeared together, hands clasped. Richard wore one of CJ’s old gray suits which was too short at the wrists and ankles. His hair was pulled back in a slick ponytail. And like May promised, Mariah looked beautiful in the lavender dress like they’d bought it just for her. There wasn’t much color in her cheeks, but her eyes were bright and alive. Mariah and Richard radiated pure and unrestrained happiness. A smile bubbled up inside of Carrie. It was going be a perfect day.
May spotted Carrie up front. With a huge grin, she leaned over and whispered something to Greg. Carrie quickly twisted back around, realizing she was missing CJ’s speech.
“We’d like to thank Judge Simmons for coming today,” CJ was saying. “He traveled some distance to be with us, and we feel honored by his presence. So if you’re ready, Judge?”
Oliver’s uncle moved forward to start the simple ceremony.
And simple it was.
There wasn’t any music for Mariah to march to. No formal line or procession. No fancy preacher or gifts. Not even wedding rings for them to exchange. CJ walked Mariah down the ‘aisle’ while the little kids giggled. Mariah carried the beautiful hyacinth bouquet, and Greg stood in as best man. May stayed next to her daughter, crying even before the judge began.
“I just have two questions for you,” Oliver’s uncle said. “First, do you love each other now?”
“Yes,” Richard said. “I love her more than she will ever know.”
Mariah smiled, her eyes filling. “Love you, too,” she whispered.
Carrie couldn’t help but watch Greg, wondering what it would be like to see your mom get married, especially since he and his mom were so close. They’d had a difficult past and an even more difficult future, yet he looked pleased by their simple words, which only sweetened the ceremony.
“Good,” Oliver’s uncle said. “You’d be surprised how many can’t answer that question anymore. Believe it or not, some people are marrying for citizenship these days—people who barely know each other.”
Oliver leaned over to Carrie and whispered, “That’s true. It’s gotten so out of hand, the government had to crack down on it.”
Carrie stared at him. Oliver couldn’t know about her wild conversation with Greg—hopefully no one besides Mariah
did. What would Oliver have said had she agreed?
Without permission, her eyes flickered back to Greg, only this time he was looking at her. With a smirk, he inclined his head toward the judge as if to ask, What do you think? Wanna get your yellow card today?
Mr. and Mrs. Greg Pierce.
Her stomach did a back flip. Though she knew he was teasing—he couldn’t still think that was a good idea—she clasped her hands tightly in her lap. She couldn’t find her voice to reply to Oliver.
“Then I just have one more question,” Oliver’s uncle said. “Do you promise to love each other forever—or at least for a while?”
Carrie cringed. For a while? From the look on Oliver’s face, she guessed he didn’t appreciate the comment either.
“Forever,” Richard whispered.
Mariah barely managed a nod as more tears fell down her pale cheeks.
Oliver’s uncle straightened. “Good enough for me. I now pronounce you man and—”
“Wait!” Richard cried. “Already?”
“What else did you have in mind?” the judge asked.
“Would it be alright if I said a few things?” Richard looked around for permission as if anyone in the clan would deny him his moment.
“Go ahead.”
Richard faced Mariah and took her hands in his. She shined with pure joy under his watchful care. Seeing them made Carrie wish she had watched her parents’ wedding videos like they always begged her to. She pictured them looking at each other just like Richard and Mariah were now, minus thirty years.
“I don’t remember exactly how it goes,” Richard started, “but I think it’s something like, for better or worse, for richer and poorer—which is fortunate, since neither of us have a dime to our name.”
Mariah laughed softly. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”
“That we are, my love.” Richard reached up and wiped her wet cheeks. He didn’t even come close to keeping up with her happy tears, but he still tried.
“In sickness,” he whispered, “and in health. To love and to cherish from this day forward until…until…” His face scrunched suddenly. His eyes darted to CJ and then to the rest of the room, desperate to find someone to save him from the phrase he hadn’t anticipated.
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 33