A Summer Wedding at Cross Creek Inn

by Cheryl Holt

  “They’ll figure out who you are,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Then they’ll harass you for information about her.”

  “I would never provide it. Her mom already tried to bribe me so I’d claim the picture was fake.”

  Rachel sighed. “I wasn’t joking. They are all so effed up. I hope you told her to go screw herself.”

  He grinned. “I did, and she was so mad.”

  They were in their suite, waiting for something to happen. Jennifer had left with Eric’s brother, Alex. A bit earlier, their dad had staggered in, after having been out all night again, and he was in the shower. Amy was in the bedroom, fussing with Jennifer’s wedding gown, so she could begin to dress when she returned.

  The hair and makeup ladies would arrive shortly.

  “Have you talked to Amy very much since she’s been here?” she asked.

  “Not much. Why?”

  “She’s thinking of leaving the commune and moving home.”

  “That would be cool. She should quit punishing herself.”

  “It means I could get my own apartment. Amy could take care of Dad, and I could do some other stuff.”

  When she spoke about the possibility aloud, she suffered such a wave of anxiety that she thought she might be too much of a coward to proceed. She was twenty-four, so it was bizarre to be scared, but she couldn’t envision herself implementing such huge changes.

  “I’m not living in the dorm this fall,” he said. “Maybe you could come down to Eugene, and we could rent a place together.”

  He was the nicest person in the world and the very best brother. At his tendering the suggestion, she could have hugged him. “I’d like that. It would be fun. I might even apply to the university and take some classes.”

  “You should. It always seemed stupid to me that you stayed with Dad all these years.”

  Amy called, “Is Jennifer back yet?”

  “No,” Rachel replied, and she leaned nearer to Kyle and whispered, “Don’t show Amy the photo of Lindsey, and don’t admit that you were at that bar. It might upset her.”

  “I won’t show her.”

  “You weren’t drinking with Lindsey, were you?”

  “No. Even if I drank—which I don’t—I couldn’t keep up with her. She’s so out of control. I can’t imagine what will become of her.”

  “Have you heard from her this morning? Does she even remember you being there?”

  “I have no idea what she remembers. She was so blotto.” His phone pinged, and he peeked down at the screen. He read the message and frowned. As if they’d conjured her by mentioning her, he said, “It’s from Lindsey. Mr. Benjamin is so angry that he’s threatening to send her to rehab.”

  “It definitely might help her.”

  “She’s begging me to visit her in her room to discuss it.”

  “Should you?”

  He considered, then shook his head. “She’s such bad news, and I don’t want to be involved with her, but I don’t think she has any real friends, you know? I hate for her to be on her own when she’s in trouble.”

  He texted back, then placed the phone face down on the table. It started pinging like crazy, as if he suddenly had a stronger signal and had been flooded with texts. He ignored them.

  Rachel hoped they were from acquaintances who’d stumbled on his picture out on the web, and not all from Lindsey, which would indicate she was some sort of lunatic. Then again, the girl was seriously whacked. If she phone-stalked Kyle, Rachel wouldn’t be surprised.

  The door opened, and Jennifer walked in. Alex was with her, and to Rachel’s great astonishment, they were holding hands as if they’d somehow morphed into a couple. Jennifer was about to be Eric’s bride, so what the heck was occurring?

  Her sister’s cheeks were bright red, as if she’d been running or as if she was incredibly livid. She said to Rachel, “Where are Amy and Dad?”

  “I’m here.” Amy stuck her head out. “Dad is just stepping out of the shower.”

  “Would you ask him to hurry? I need to tell all of you something important.”

  Kyle studied her and said, “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Not a ghost, but it’s probably just as shocking.”

  Amy and Rachel exchanged a charged glance, then Amy rushed to their dad’s room. They listened to her and her dad murmuring, then they emerged together. Their dad didn’t bother to put on his clothes, but wrapped himself in one of the plush robes the Inn supplied.

  “What’s up, peanut?” he asked Jennifer. “What’s wrong?”

  “Would you sit down?” Jennifer said to him.

  “No. Tell me what it is. I’m certain I’ll survive.”

  Alex nodded at Jennifer, as if giving her permission to spit it out.

  “The wedding is off,” she announced. “I just told Eric.”

  There was a stunned silence, then Kyle stammered, “But . . . but . . . it’s in four hours.”

  “It was in four hours,” Jennifer said. “It’s cancelled.”

  “For good?” their dad tentatively inquired. “It’s not merely postponed?”

  “It’s over for good,” Jennifer firmly responded. “It’s over forever.”

  There was another protracted silence, with everyone confused over what comment would be appropriate, then Rachel leapt to her feet and joyously clapped her hands.

  “I’m so glad!” she said.

  “Why would you be glad?” Alex asked her. “Jennifer is kind of traumatized.”

  “No offense, Alex, but your brother is a prick, and I’m delighted that he’ll never be my brother-in-law.” She grinned at Jennifer and said, “I’ve been dying to spill the beans about Wednesday, and now, I guess I can.”

  “Wednesday?” Jennifer scowled. “What about it?”

  “Eric claimed he was late ‘cuz of the weather in New York, but there wasn’t any bad weather in New York on Wednesday. The whole east coast had clear skies. Whatever—or whoever—was delaying him, it wasn’t a storm.”

  Rachel didn’t know what reply she’d expected, but Jennifer simply scoffed derisively and said, “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I do not friggin’ believe it!”

  “What?”

  Victoria was in her office at the rear of the Inn, at her desk, and she’d just hung up the phone. Sam, their hiking guide and ski instructor, was seated across from her.

  “The Benjamin/Layton wedding is cancelled,” she said.

  His jaw dropped. “It’s not a joke or a prank, is it?”

  “That was the bride herself. She asked me to inform everybody who should be apprised.”

  “Before you take any action,” Sam said, “maybe you should check with the groom. Has he heard the news? This very moment, he might be in his suite, putting on his tux.”

  Victoria snorted with exasperation. “Well, whether he agrees with her or not, the bride isn’t coming, so I’m pretty sure there won’t be a ceremony.”

  “Rich, crazy assholes, huh? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t earn a living without ‘em.”

  She bent forward and rested her head on the desk. “I need to find a different job.”

  Two people were arguing out in the sitting room, and their angry voices woke Josh up. He focused in and decided it was Eric and Crystal Benjamin.

  He peered over at the clock, seeing that it was a quarter past ten. He hadn’t drunk much alcohol at the bachelor party, but they hadn’t arrived at the Inn until after six. He was groggy and bleary-eyed, and he was in no mood to referee a fight.

  Tempers were rising though, so he tossed off the blankets, tugged on a pair of shorts, and staggered out to calm them down.

  “You never should have gotten engaged,” Crystal was saying, “so don’t worry about her.”

  “W
e’re not discussing it,” Eric tightly said.

  “In fact,” Crystal continued, “I’ve been thinking you should hook up with me instead.”

  Eric appeared so astounded that she might have punched him. “You and me? Like . . . a couple?”

  “Why not? We’re so hot together.”

  “You’re married to my dad.”

  She smirked. “Probably not for long, hm?”

  Josh entered the room and asked, “What’s going on?”

  “You won’t believe what happened,” Eric told him.

  Crystal laughed and waffled her hand, as if she could wave away the problem. “It was nothing.”

  Josh ignored her and glared at Eric. “What did you do?”

  Eric’s cheeks flushed, which was intriguing to witness. He was never embarrassed about anything, so it had to be really awful.

  “Well . . . ah . . . Crystal and I might have been in the bathroom . . . and . . . ah . . .”

  “Oh, no,” Josh murmured.

  “Jennifer and Alex walked in on us.”

  Josh winced. “Please tell me you were fully dressed and very, very sober.”

  Eric shrugged. “Jennifer has called off the wedding.”

  “Seriously?”

  “That’s what she said. They marched out—”

  “You didn’t chase after her?”

  Eric’s cheeks heated an even deeper shade of red. “I couldn’t. I didn’t have on any clothes, and I couldn’t run down the hall naked.”

  “You have clothes on now,” Josh said. “Don’t you suppose you ought to track her down and—oh, I don’t know—apologize?”

  “It wouldn’t help,” Eric said.

  Josh was aghast. “Have you talked to your dad?”

  “No, thank God.” Eric looked half-intoxicated from the prior night. “How furious will he be?”

  “You have to ask?” Josh spun to Crystal and said, “Get out of here.”

  “Don’t boss me, Josh. You can’t, and why don’t you go back to your room? Eric and I have important matters to debate, and we don’t need to hear your opinion.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re thinking you should leave your husband for Eric.”

  She shook her blond hair and puffed herself up. “Why couldn’t it happen? Eric and I have always been wild for each other.”

  “It can’t happen, you deranged shrew,” Josh said, “because when Dennis finds out about this, he’ll murder both of you.”

  He grabbed her arm and escorted her to the door. She cursed and dragged her feet, but he easily manhandled her.

  “Eric,” she spat, “don’t let him treat me this way.”

  But Eric seemed to have been turned to stone. He simply watched, his expression confused, as if he couldn’t figure out how she’d snuck in.

  “Here’s a piece of advice, Crystal,” Josh said, “and I suggest you take it. Rush to your room, pack a bag, and race to the airport. Dennis will learn about this—Alex has probably already told him—so you should be far, far away before he explodes.”

  She was undeterred, and she glanced at Eric. “Come with me, Eric. You can’t be eager to stay and face your dad.”

  Eric didn’t answer her, and Josh said, “Goodbye, Crystal. If I’m very, very lucky, this will be the last time I ever lay eyes on you.”

  He yanked the door open and shoved her out. She tried to bluster back in, but he managed to push it closed so she couldn’t. She knocked and shouted to Eric over and over, but she gave up much quicker than Josh might have predicted.

  She stomped off, and he hoped reality had crashed down, that she’d realized Josh was correct and she should flee before Dennis was apprised of what had transpired, but she didn’t seem to feel she was in the wrong. She was likely too vain to save herself.

  He scowled at his friend and said, “What a disaster.”

  “I know.”

  “Would you like to go with her? Maybe you should.”

  Eric shuddered. “I never want to see that insane witch ever again.”

  “Then you should hurry off on your own. You could fly to Europe and hide until your dad is not quite so enraged.”

  “I’m not positive he’ll be enraged,” Eric stupidly said, proving he had to still be drunk. “He might be glad about it. I mean, he can’t stand her anymore, so this might furnish him with the excuse he needs to divorce her.”

  Josh was surprised he didn’t whack Eric alongside the head for being an idiot. “Yes, this might be the catalyst that convinces him, but for the moment, she’s still his wife, you’re his son, and you were having sex with her in your bathroom—in front of your brother and fiancée.”

  “This will be really bad, won’t it?”

  “Dude, you have no idea.”

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  Kyle whipped around and saw Lindsey had spoken to him from over on a sofa in the Great Room. It was the same spot where he’d initially met her when he’d arrived at the Inn on Wednesday. So much had happened since then that it seemed as if it had been years ago rather than four days earlier.

  He’d been suffocating in their suite and had needed to escape the intense drama. Everyone was pouring over the details of Jennifer’s failed wedding, and he was exhausted by all of it. He wished he’d run into that prick, Eric, and he’d actually gone and knocked on his door, but no one had answered.

  If the asshole had been there, Kyle would have pounded on him. Eric was larger and older, so Kyle probably couldn’t have inflicted much damage, but he’d have been satisfied to make the attempt. He hated to have his sisters hurt, and the jerk had earned himself a thorough beating for how he’d behaved.

  He’d come downstairs to take a walk, and who was the first person he’d bumped into? Lindsey!

  She looked young and small, the cushions swallowing her up, and for once, she must not have been eager for anyone to know who she was. She was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, her flashy jewelry absent, and her clothes—jeans, T-shirt, and denim jacket—might have been purchased at an outlet mall. She could have been any ordinary blond girl.

  He should have hurried on by, but he tried to never be a dick. He went over and sat across from her.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “I’ve been better.” She was extremely subdued, her usual snark tucked away.

  “You shouldn’t drink so much,” he said. “It won’t lead you in a good direction.”

  “Don’t lecture me! Puh-lease! It’s all anybody’s done since I woke up.” He wasn’t in any mood to be scolded by her, and he started to stand so he could stomp off, but apparently, she couldn’t bear to have him abandon her. She hastily said, “Sorry, sorry! I’m being a bitch.”

  “It’s your normal condition, and I don’t like it. I definitely don’t have to put up with it.”

  “I wanted to say thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For picking me up at the bar when I was so wasted. You were nice to me when I didn’t deserve you to be, and I appreciate it. I had to be sure I told you.”

  “It was no big deal.”

  She snorted at that. “You’re just being polite.”

  “Maybe.”

  Because of her, his face was all over the web, but he liked his privacy, and he was disgusted by the gossip being generated. When people realized who he was, the trail would wind back to Amy’s accident, and he would never shine that light on his dad or his sisters.

  He didn’t like how he was being talked about constantly. Questions had been posted to the Lindsey stories: Who is the guy with her? His name was linked to hers, so they’d always be connected, which was aggravating.

  She grinned behind her sunglasses, furnishing a hint of the real Lindsey.

  “We’re leaving,” she said.

  “The Inn or Colorado?�
�

  “My mom and Dennis are fighting because of me, so he kicked us out. She and I are flying to LA.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes. He’s down in the village having breakfast, and he ordered us to vanish before he returns.”

  Up in the Laytons’ room, a debate was raging over how Mr. Benjamin would respond when he discovered what had occurred. Bets were running from him not caring a bit to his murdering Crystal and hiding her body in the woods.

  “My mom is acting all crazy,” Lindsey said, “and I don’t understand it. We packed our bags, and we’re obeying him, but he never gave a shit about me, so I can’t figure out why we have to flee in such a rush. We’re not even staying for the wedding, and that’s the whole reason we came. I’m not that close to Eric, but he is my stepbrother. I ought to be permitted to attend, don’t you think?”

  He cocked his head and gaped at her. “You haven’t heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  “Your mom isn’t fleeing because of you being down in the bar. It’s much worse than that.”

  “What could be worse than that? From how Dennis was carrying on, it sounded as if life on Earth was ending.”

  He peeked around to be certain there were no eavesdroppers, then he leaned nearer and murmured, “The wedding has been canceled.”

  She scowled. “Why?”

  “Your mom and Eric were having sex in his bathroom. Jennifer caught them.”

  “No effing way!”

  “It’s true. His brother, Alex, was with her. They both saw it. People are afraid Mr. Benjamin might murder your mom when he finds out.”

  “Oh, my God,” she muttered. “What will happen to us?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  She appeared bewildered and even sort of scared, and he felt sorry for her again, but then, he was a sucker for girls who were in trouble. He supposed it was because he had three sisters, and he knew how easily a female could land herself in a jam. They always needed help.

  “Dennis might kill my mom,” she said. “He has such a temper; I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “Neither would I.”