Saved by the Bride (24 page)

* * *

Kathleen was both bored and worried and the combination
made her restless. Almost two weeks had passed since she’d injured herself and
the swelling on her ankle had gone down but now the bruising had come up. A
swirl of purple-and-yellow tie-dye marked her skin but at least she was
graduating from crutches to a walking stick. This should have made her happy,
but she was worried about her daughter.

Bridey had visited her earlier in the day with a long list of
wedding-related questions but when Kathleen had offered up her requested
opinions, Bridey had briskly rejected every single one of them, yet she seemed
to be having trouble making any decisions at all. Finally, when she’d questioned
Bridey about her almost zealot approach to the wedding, Bridey’s face had gone
white and tight, she’d gathered up her magazines and computer, and she’d
left.

Kathleen knew something was bothering her but her daughter
wasn’t saying what it was and with Finn currently in Chicago and unavailable to
ask, she was at a loss. Not that she was certain Finn knew what Bridey’s problem
was, or even if he did know, that he’d tell her. Her children had become very
self-sufficient during the separation and divorce, and in many ways were a now a
tight unit that excluded her. As painful as it was to admit, it had probably
happened because she and Sean had been obsessed with trying to hurt each other.
All that emotional energy had excluded the children. When she’d finally come out
of the post-divorce funk and had started rebuilding her life, it had taken every
ounce of strength she had. By the time she’d got herself together, the children
appeared to have little need of her. She’d spent years trying to make it up to
them but she’d never reclaimed all the ground she’d lost. Sean hadn’t even
tried.

Being back at the lake was one of the hardest things she’d done
in years, and she was using every cent of the thousands of dollars she’d spent
on yoga in the past decade to stay calm. The loss of the lake had cut deeply and
she’d avoided coming to northern Wisconsin for nineteen years but when Bridey
wanted her engagement party up here, of course she’d come. When Bridey had
insisted she return to help her with the wedding plans, she’d come, never
envisaging in a million years she’d have to stay at Kylemore. If that wasn’t
tough enough, now Bridey was stressing out about the wedding which was still
months away.

She sighed and decided that fresh air and a change of scene
were needed. She hobbled out to the deck and collapsed onto the lounge chair.
Gray clouds hovered, cooling the day and the usually sparkling lake looked like
she felt—dull and listless. Remembering her meditation, she focused on a tree on
the shore and tried to let her mind empty of everything. Tried to find her
hard-earned peace with herself and her life.

Her breath moved in and out, long and slow, and the first
sensations of calm trickled through her, seeping in like a restorative balm. Her
body sank fully into the lounge chair and she could feel the soft cushion
molding to her back. Something hit her. She looked down in surprise to find a
small, bouncy ball on her lap and then she heard the sound of running feet.

“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to hit you.”

Kathleen had met Logan for the first time at Bridey’s
engagement party and had been struck by how much he looked like Finn at the same
age. “What were you trying to hit?”

His eyes widened. “Nothing. Not you. I mean just the wood.” He
stared at his sneaker for a moment and then looked up. “The ball bounces really
high off this deck,” he added by way of explanation.

She smiled at a memory. “Finn used to play with balls like this
and he said this deck had the best bounce.”

Logan looked unconvinced. “Finn never wants to play with
balls.”

“He did when he was eight.” She rolled the ball around in her
hand remembering the time Finn’s baseball had gone through the library window.
“Would you like a glass of lemonade? Esther put a pitcher in my fridge and if
you carry it out here, I can pour us both a glass.”

“Awesome.”

As Logan rushed into the cottage, Kathleen used her stick and
walked into her bedroom. By the time she came out again Logan had the jug, some
glasses and a bag of cookies he must have found, all set up on the outdoor
table.

Logan eyed the stick. “Can I try?”

She laughed. “Go ahead.” She watched him playing with it as she
poured the drinks.

He sat back down and politely passed the stick back to her.
“It’s too big for me.”

“One day it will be too small for you. You’re probably going to
grow as tall as Finn.”

“Yeah?” Hope scooted across his face.

Kathleen nodded as she opened up the small photo album she’d
retrieved from her purse—the one she always carried with her. “This is a photo
of Finn when he was eight.”

The boy leaned forward and peered at the picture. “Hey, that’s
here.”

“That’s right. I told you he liked to play on this deck.”

Logan’s face filled with interest. “He showed me how to light a
fire. Are there more photos?”

“Sure.” She turned the page and started telling Logan the story
about each one.

They were halfway into the album when she heard Sean’s deep
voice calling out, “Logan?”

Kathleen’s calm fled and every muscle tensed.

Logan jumped up and waved. “Over here, Daddy.”

Sean’s long legs took the steps two at a time and if he was
surprised that his son was visiting with her, he didn’t show it.

He gave her a stiff nod. “Kathleen.”

“Sean.” The distance the divorce had wedged between them hadn’t
altered in the intervening years, only now instead of it being a living, hissing
thing that drove her, it was just a deadweight that made her ache. She didn’t
love Sean anymore but she didn’t hate him either as she once had. In fact, these
days whenever she thought about their marriage, their divorce, their children
and everything they’d lost, she only felt sadness and regret that they hadn’t
handled it all better.

He turned to Logan. “Hey, buddy, Mom’s looking for you so head
on home, okay?”

“Okay.” Logan stood up. “Thank you for the lemonade, Mrs. um,
Finn’s mom.”

“Call me Kathleen, and you’re welcome, Logan. Come visit
again.”

He ran off with a wave and Sean turned to leave but stopped on
the top step and doubled back. “Do you have everything you need, Kathleen?”

A hint of the Irish charm she’d fallen in love with when he’d
swept her off her feet at twenty-two, hovered in the question, surprising her.
It had vanished with the divorce and for a long time their only communication
had been through lawyers. Finally, they’d settled into brief and strained
discussions about the children. Of course now Finn and Bridey were adults, they
didn’t communicate at all. Bridey’s engagement party was the first time she’d
seen Sean in years. “I have everything I need, thank you.”

“You’ve been comfortable here?”

“The cottage is perfect.” She instantly regretted her choice of
words as they immediately hinted at the bitter divorce settlement and that
hadn’t been her intention at all. She braced herself for his reply.

He ran his hand through his hair and silver glinted brightly in
the sun. “You did a great job on its design.”

His complimentary words shocked her. She loved this cottage and
had loved every minute of working on its design and supervising the build.
Losing it in the divorce had been like losing a limb. Today was the first time
Sean had ever acknowledged her connection to it. She accepted his unexpected
olive branch. “Thank you.”

He saw the photo album and flicked a page. “Is that Bridey and
Finn at breakfast on the farm?”

She leaned in to check. “Yes. Just before she threw up all over
my shoes after eating too many pancakes and maple syrup.” She laughed. “Good
times.”

He sat down and kept turning the pages. “We did have some good
times.”

She thought about their first ten years. “We did, before it all
fell apart.”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “Do you think we’d have made it
even if I hadn’t been unfaithful?”

She’d asked herself that question many times and as much as
she’d found it hard to admit, there’d been signs before his infidelity that they
weren’t suited to live together for fifty years. “I think it accelerated
something that was inevitable.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I’ve taken a long time to grow up,
and I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. Caused us.” He gave her a sad smile.
“Are you happy, Kathleen?”

His apology and question hit from left field, sending her
reeling and she didn’t quite know what to say. “I’m comfortable and I live a
useful life involved in my community and surrounded by good friends.”

His mouth jerked up on one side. “That sounds like something
out of a self-help book. I want to know if you’re happy.”

She thought about her project with the Art Institute and the
fledging friendship with a new man in her life who’d sent flowers and fruit to
the cottage and had telephoned her each morning since she’d hurt her ankle. She
thought about Bridey and Finn. “For the most part, I think I am. Are you?”

“I’m getting there.” His hand stilled on the photo of Finn
standing next to his own father, proudly holding up a musky. “I really screwed
up with the kids, didn’t I?”

She saw the same pain on his face that she knew lived in her
heart, and it made her reach out to him in a way she’d never done since he’d
betrayed her with his business intern. “We both did.”

“You at least made it to the ball games and ballet recitals. I
let them down all the time because I was too busy being the hotshot entrepreneur
putting the business ahead of them.” He rubbed his cheek and sighed. “Over the
last few years, Bridey and I seem to have found a middle ground, but Finn, well,
he’s a damn fine businessman but for all that I know about what’s important to
him outside of AKP, he might as well be an employee. You’re closer to him than
I’ll ever be.”

She heard his regrets and they resonated deeply against her
own. “Perhaps, but I feel a distance too. We put it there, Sean. We inserted it
when we got caught up in the drama of us, and I think we’ve lost the opportunity
to fix it. I take what I can get and try not to lament the rest.”

His shoulders slumped and he finished his son’s glass of
lemonade. “And now I have Logan. I know I’ll make mistakes there too, but this
time it won’t be because I’m absent.”

She stifled the bite of jealousy that Sean had a second chance
with a child, and instead thought about how much she was looking forward to
becoming a grandmother. She hoped Bridey and Hank didn’t wait too long before
starting a family. “Logan’s a lovely kid and he’s at such a great age. They love
doing things with their parents at eight.”

“Yeah.” He pushed up from the chair deep in thought. “Would you
come to dinner one night, Kathleen?”

Years of protective armor was hard to drop. “I’m not sure
that’s such a good idea. Your wife—”

“Dana was the one who insisted you stay here after your
accident and she wants you at our table.”

She fingered the edge of her sleeve, wanting to attend but
still slightly stunned by this mellow version of her ex-husband. “And what about
you, Sean? Do you want me at your table? We don’t have the best track record of
being civil at family gatherings.”

He spoke softly. “We’ve just had a conversation I want to build
on, Kathleen.”

She recognized his expression—the one that meant he was deadly
serious and not about to go back on his word. She knew she wanted the same
thing—a chance for their children to be able to enjoy their parents in the same
space without the anguish, pain and hurt. “So do I.”

He grinned at her. “Let’s shock Bridey and Finn
speechless.”

She smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

Chapter Fourteen

“I’ve got some great news.” Annika addressed the town
meeting with a wide smile.

“You’ve convinced Bridget Callahan to change her mind?”
Melissa’s hopeful expression was replicated around the room.

She shook her head, swallowed a sigh and tried to think about
the best way to get the message through to everybody that Bridey getting married
in Whitetail was
never
going to happen. “I think we
all have to accept that train has left the station. Bridget Callahan wants to
get married in Chicago and it’s time to let that idea go.”

Nicole stood up and addressed the room. “We’ve got four
weddings booked now.”

“Four?” A clutch of unease gripped her that she was not only
out of the information loop but that she hadn’t been at the fourth bride
meeting.

“You weren’t available, Anni, but don’t worry, we showed her
your portfolio and she’s going to contact you.” Nicole turned back to the room.
“This bride’s getting married next May and she wants to have the ceremony in the
gazebo, her photos on the town hall steps and then travel in Al’s carriage to
the Supper Club for the reception. She wants Mrs. Norell to make her cake and
she asked if we had a wedding photographer we could recommend. Now that’s
something we need to think about because right now, Whitetail doesn’t have
one.”

“Anni,” Mrs. Norell beamed, “this will please you. See, there’s
one new job for the town.”

One
job
.
One
! Annika gripped
her gavel in exasperation and brought it down hard on the lectern. The sound
reverberated around the room.

Some people blinked at her, others jumped in their seats and as
Nicole sat down, she shot her a questioning look loaded with disapproval.

Annika tried not to mind Nicole’s expression and justified her
action under the heading of “whatever it takes.” “And it’s new jobs that I want
to tell you about. We have an electronics company from Mississippi looking to
open a branch on the other side of the Mason-Dixon line, and the owner’s
expressed interest in Whitetail. He’s coming next week for a tour of the
town.”

A murmur of interest buzzed around the room. “How many jobs,
Anni?” Clint Eklund asked. “As many as Reggies?”

She shook her head. “Initially ten jobs but that’s ten more
than we have right now and ten jobs that are reliable and not seasonal.”

“Actually, Anni,” Melissa said, “we’ve had an inquiry about a
winter wedding from a bride whose fiancé is a snowmobiler. They want the wedding
to be part of a snowmobiling weekend. I suggested a perfect-white, velvet A-line
wedding dress with fur trim.”

All the women in the room started nodding their approval and
Al’s eyes lit up. “I could restore the old sleigh. That would be perfect for
winter weddings. There’s nothing like the sound of sleigh bells tinkling.”

“That’s if you can hear them over the roar of a blizzard.” The
strength of Annika’s annoyance surprised her. She usually had more patience.
“People, a winter wedding this far north is fraught with logistical problems.
Who in this town has ever got married in winter?”

Four hands shot up including Nicole’s, and Annika’s face
instantly burned. She wished she could snatch back her words. She remembered
that pretty wedding on a miraculously perfect blue-sky winter’s day that had
dawned after a week of blizzards. Everyone had taken it as a sign—a blessing on
a union that would stretch long into the future. Seven years later it had been
tragically cut short.

“I’m sorry, I take it back but can we please just focus on Long
River Electronics?” She shuffled her papers. “This is really an important
meeting for us all. I can’t stress this enough so I think we need to work really
hard at giving the owner of this company a true Whitetail welcome.”

Farmer Luke, a good friend of her brother, gave her a smile.
“You can rely on us, Anni.”

Murmurs of agreement buzzed around the room and no one
mentioned weddings. Annika blew out a breath of sheer relief.

Things were finally back on track.

* * *

Two hours later, Annika called into the cottage to
deliver a gorgeous arrangement of sunflowers that had arrived for Kathleen.
“These have to be the happiest flowers I know.”

“They are cheery,” Kathleen agreed. “Would you mind filling
them up with water for me, please?”

Annika picked up the small plastic watering can and looked at
the numerous vases of flowers dotted around the cottage. “Would you like me to
go through them all and weed out the dead ones?”

Kathleen’s grateful expression said it all. “That would be
wonderful, thank you. I really should tell Geoffrey that I have enough flowers
but...”

Annika knew how she felt. “It’s lovely to be treasured.”

“It is, even if I have no clue how long it will last.”

She glanced at the older woman wondering if she was trying to
tell her something, which was crazy because Annika knew exactly how long she and
Finn had—Labor Day was their end point. “But you’re enjoying it while you
can.”

“Exactly.” Kathleen smiled. “Finn tells me you’re an artist,
which is something you failed to mention when I was rambling on about the Art
Institute.”

Her heart kicked up but she kept her focus on pulling out the
dead flowers which ironically reflected her artistic career perfectly. “I was
interested in hearing about the program.”

“You’re very kind. I do love it and it’s one of the things that
gets me up out of bed in the mornings.”

She wondered what else Finn had told his mother and then she
remembered her promise to him a week ago when she’d been painting the mural.
“Kathleen, what do you know about the failure of the Raybould Gallery?”

“Ryan Raybould should be shot for what he did to his family’s
and the city’s art heritage.” Kathleen’s eyes sparked with indignation and her
shoulders rolled back. “His great-grandfather would have disowned him and wept,
had he been alive when the collection was sold to pay Ryan’s gambling debts.
That young man’s addiction took a lot of people down with him and sadly, many of
the artists who held exhibitions there in the last year never got paid.”

She’d believed Finn when he’d told her that her exhibition
wasn’t the reason things had failed but the fact he’d wanted her to hear it from
another source made her warm and tingly. Kathleen was looking at her but without
any expectation of a comment and she realized Finn had kept her secret and he
hadn’t told his mother about her connection to Ryan or the gallery. Perhaps it
was Kathleen’s indignation or perhaps it was just the passing of time, but
something made her say, “I exhibited there.”

Concern whipped across her cheeks. “Oh, I do hope you didn’t
lose money or artwork.”

“No, nothing like that.”
Just
my
ability
to
paint
.

“Well that’s good to know. Is any of your work part of a
permanent collection?”

Annika shook her head as the words
immature
,
derivative
and
lacking
substantive
style
—words that were carved on her heart—got
converted to audio and boomed in her head. “My work is a long way from being in
demand.”

Kathleen gave a quiet smile. “It only takes
one
painting, Annika.”

But she didn’t have another painting in her. Annika wrapped the
dead flowers in paper and walked toward the door. “I’ll take these and put them
in Dana’s compost bin.”

“That’s a good idea. Can you tell me, is Finn coming back
tonight?”

Kathleen’s hopeful gaze sent a thread of sadness through her.
Both of Finn’s parents wanted to see their son but they seemed to feel they
couldn’t ask him about his plans. Both were depending on her. The sadness
suddenly twisted back on her when she realized she was in a similar position.
Finn came and went and she was the one always waiting.

But
that’s
implicit
in
an
affair
and
you’re
not
family
.

The thought failed to reassure her.

As if on cue, her phone chirped, announcing an incoming
message, and she pulled it out of her pocket. Reading the liquid display, she
hugged a smile to herself. “He says midafternoon tomorrow.”

“Perfect. If you’d asked me a few weeks ago if I wanted to be
laid up with a severely sprained ankle, I would have said ‘no.’ But it’s giving
me extra time with Bridey and Finn, and I had a lovely afternoon with Hank last
weekend.”

“I’m glad it’s all working out for you.” Annika could feel
water dripping onto her leg through the paper and she slid open the glass
door.

“Finn doesn’t say much about his life, Annika, but I know for a
fact you’re the first woman he’s ever brought to the cabin.”

“Well, he didn’t really bring me. I pretty much arrived
uninvited when I lost my rental accommodation and he refused to let me stay at
the warehouse.”

“As it should be. I did
try
to
raise him to think of others but he mostly thinks of work. Sean and I didn’t
give him the best example of marital harmony.”

Annika didn’t know what to say to this except, “I imagine
divorce is tough on everyone.”

“I do hope my son is treating you as well you deserve.”

Her mouth fell open and this time nothing came out.

“You’re dripping water on the floor, dear.” Kathleen picked up
her book and started reading, signaling the end of the conversation.

Annika tripped over the sliding door flange as she walked
out.

* * *

Bridey didn’t have to weigh herself to know she’d lost
five pounds. Her face looked longer and her engagement ring spun loosely on her
finger.

“I’ve made your favorite.” Esther slid an enormous slice of pie
across the counter—deep lemony-yellow custard and a decadent amount of meringue,
complete with a hint of a golden brown on the fluffy peaks. “Eat.”

Bridey plunged her fork into the pie knowing it would be filled
with the wonderful combination of sugary sweet and sharp tangy taste, but when
it reached her mouth it lost its flavor. She pushed the plate away. “Just
coffee, Esther.”

The housekeeper rolled her eyes. “Whatever it is that’s
bothering you must be catastrophic if you’re not eating my pie.”

Bridey closed her eyes and thought about the brief and
tension-filled phone calls she’d shared with Hank all week. She’d called on
Sunday night and apologized for not waiting until he’d had breakfast before
starting the wedding discussion. He’d said, “Thank you, Bridey.”

Nothing else. Nothing about the wedding, nothing about how he’d
been less tolerant due to being hungover, not even an “I’m sorry too”—absolutely
nothing.

What did it mean? She felt like she was tiptoeing through a
minefield and their conversations—if you could call them that—had been filled
with distance and long pauses. Unable to face talking about wedding venues again
because she was worried it would bring them back to the argument, she’d sent him
an email telling him she’d chosen the InterContinental. His reply had been,
“Okay.” Four small letters that bruised her heart.

She didn’t know what to think and she didn’t know what to do.
Every time she mentioned the wedding to Hank during their evening phone call,
she pictured his face tightening and his eyes closing as if the thought of
marrying her was akin to torture. Her mother had actively tried to talk to her
about the plans two or three times this week, but her interest and enthusiasm
had stung like salt in an open wound. When Kathleen had asked her what was
wrong, she couldn’t voice the dread-filled words that constantly crawled through
her and she’d fled from the cottage.

Now she accepted the coffee mug that Esther had slid across the
counter and went for a general answer. “I miss Hank.”

“He was here five days ago.” Esther briskly filled the sink
with hot, soapy water.

That’s
not
what
I
mean
.
He’s
been
missing
since
we
got
engaged
. “I know.”

“And?”

And
I
think
he’s
regretting
the
idea
of
marrying
me
. “And...I don’t know. Last weekend he seemed
different.”

Esther stilled her hands on the edge of the sink. “Honey, he
looked exhausted last weekend and, believe me, after two weeks of stress a man
is rarely communicative.”

Ignoring the memories of the strained phone calls during the
week, Bridey clung on to this bit of news like a personal floatation device in a
stormy sea. “You think he was just tired?”

“That man was asleep on his feet.” Esther scrubbed the large
lasagna dish. “The drama at the plant’s over now. Your Hank’s going to be
arriving soon, so stop your moping and go put on a pretty dress. Your father’s
hosting a party tonight and it’s perfect weather for dancing under the
stars.”

She dreamily thought of how Hank expertly spun her around the
floor at their engagement party. “Hank can dance.”

Esther smiled. “I noticed. He even made me feel light on my
feet.”

Bridey stood up feeling a lot happier. Esther always had the
best advice and if Bridey had been thinking more clearly earlier in the week,
she’d have talked to her a lot sooner. She thought about the new backless dress
she’d bought and smiled. It had a bodice that hugged her tight, accenting all
the right curves in all the right places before floating out from the waist in
layers and layers of gauzy chiffon. It would knock Hank’s socks off and
hopefully a lot more than that. She instantly pulled out her phone. This weekend
she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. She didn’t care if there were comments
and winks. This time she and Hank were going to stay in town at the motel and
have mind-blowing sex, no matter what.