We'll Always Have Paris (6 page)

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Authors: Barbara Bretton

BOOK: We'll Always Have Paris
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EPILOGUE

The Wedding
Milles Fleurs—the day before the wedding

“I
T ISN'T AS IF
he ran away,
chérie,
” Aunt Celeste said as she pulled another Gauloise Blonde from her vintage Chanel purse. “He did leave you a note.”

Kate waved the square of hotel stationery under her great-aunt's nose. “‘Something cameup I'll see you at Milles Fleurs in a fewdays don't worry' is n't a note. It's a telegram.”

Her aunt flicked the wheel on her lighter then held the steady blue flame to the tip of her cigarette and inhaled three times in quick succession. “Wonderful flavor,” she said, exhaling. “Are you sure you wouldn't care to try one?”

“I quit smoking ten years ago. It's a filthy habit. And don't change the subject. If you know where he is and you're not telling me—”

Celeste threw back her head and emitted one of those throaty laughs that had brought men to their knees back in the day. “You give me far too much
credit,
chérie.
Ryan is his own man and he is about his own business. Be patient. He won't miss his daughter's wedding. He gave Alexis his word.”

Whatever he was up to, he had taken time to make sure Alexis wouldn't worry. He had apparently dropped his bags off at Milles Fleurs and shared a long father-daughter breakfast with the bride-to-be. If Alexis was concerned about her father's whereabouts, she certainly didn't show it. She was happily navigating her way through the prewedding festivities without an apparent care in the world.

Selfishly, it was more than the wedding that concerned Kate. They had shared something special that night in the hotel suite. They had opened their hearts to each other for the first time in many years. For a little while she had actually believed there was hope for them, that he still loved her and that maybe they could start all over again.

The last thing she had expected was that he would run for his life.

“He'll come back,” Kate said. “Won't he?”

Celeste patted her hand. “Don't be ridiculous. Of course he will.”

“He said he'd be back in time for the wedding…at least I thought he did.” At this point that entire magical day and night in Paris seemed like a dream. She turned to her aunt. “Something happened, Aunt Celeste. We opened up to each other. We said things we'd never said before. I felt closer to Ryan than I
have since we were teen-agers, and I refuse to believe he didn't feel it, too.”

“Then be patient,” her aunt counseled. “Trust your heart.”

Wasn't that how she got into this predicament in the first place?

“What if something happened to him?” she persisted. “I mean, he took his bags but left his cell phone behind. He's completely out of contact.”

“I don't have one of those horrid things, either,
chérie,
and I always find a way to stay in touch. He's a grown man and quite resourceful. Enjoy the day before your daughter's wedding. He'll be back before you know it.” She took Kate's hand in hers and squeezed. “I promise you this.”

Who was Kate to argue? When it came to love, Aunt Celeste wrote the book. If Celeste said to trust her heart, then she would give it her best shot.

But if there was no word from Ryan by dinner tonight, then, with apologies to her great-aunt, she would feel free to panic.

One hour before the wedding

* * *

“H
E'S ON HIS WAY
, Mom.” Alexis, the picture of radiant loveliness in her bridal gown, handed Kate a tissue. “He borrowed the cab driver's cell phone and called the inn.”

Kate, who really hadn't intended or expected to
fall apart quite like this, blew her nose. “Where has he been? Why didn't he call sooner? What happened? Is he okay?”

“He's fine.” Her little girl—wasn't it yesterday she wore her hair in a ponytail and watched reruns of
Little House on the Prairie
?—gave her a hug. “It's okay, Mom. Admit it—you can't wait to see him again.”

She looked at her daughter, glowing with love and joy, and knew she couldn't lie to her. Not today. “You're right, honey. I can't wait.”

Her emotions were in complete shambles. She swung from crazed worry to elation to almost murderous rage then back again. He had no business taking off like that on a moment's notice. He had no business not phoning for days and worrying her to death. But he was alive and well and on his way to Milles Fleurs and at the moment that simple fact outweighed everything else.

The bridesmaids burst into the side parlor room in an explosion of pale peach and spring-green silk and taffeta, bringing the scent of flowers and happiness with them. She had watched these girls all of their lives, celebrated their birthdays and graduations and first jobs. Those adorable little girls had grown up to be beautiful, accomplished young women who were gathered here today on the outskirts of the City of Light to celebrate Alexis and Gabe's wedding. The fact that two of those
beautiful young women were also her daughters pushed her right over the edge into another bout of sentimental tears.

“This has to stop, Ma.” This time Taylor handed her some tissues.

“Even waterproof mascara has its limits,” Shannon said as she adjusted the flowers pinned to her hair. “Better save some of its staying power for the ceremony.”

“The heck with the ceremony,” Alexis said. “Just wait for the first dance. When she and Daddy take the floor—”

“Did I hear my name?”

Kate spun around to see Ryan standing in the doorway to the side parlor room. His daughters threw themselves into his arms. The other girls cheered. There seemed to be no broken bones, no gunshot wounds, no visible sign of injury or illness. Relief almost brought her to her knees, but plain old anger lifted her right back up again.

At least now she could kill him with a clear conscience.

The wedding coordinator, imported from New York, appeared in the doorway and motioned the bride and her attendants into the adjoining room for a final inspection before the ceremony, which was to take place in the garden underneath a large white tent turned makeshift chapel.

“Get yourselves ready, bride's parents,” she said with a big smile. “It's almost showtime.”

“Showtime?” Ryan said after the woman disappeared into the other room.

He looked exhausted, unsure of himself, clearly waiting for the laugh she couldn't give to him.

“Okay,” he said. “Here it is.” He met her eyes. “I was arrested.”

She could feel the blood drain from her head. “You were what?”

“Arrested. I flew back to New York. I thought I could get there and back in twenty-four, but I got arrested breaking into our old house.”

“I have to sit down,” she said, perching on the straight-back chair in the corner of the tiny room. “For a second I thought you said you'd been arrested.”

“I broke into the house and forgot about the silent alarm. The entire Levittown police force showed up when I was elbow-deep in your desk drawer.”

She didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or ask for a good stiff drink.

“Remember Bernie Cowan?”

“The lawyer on your softball team.”

“I tracked him down on a fishing boat off Montauk Point. He's the only reason I'm not still in the Nassau County jail.”

“You have a set of keys. Why didn't you use them?”

“I left them in my bag.”

“One of the bags you dropped off here at the inn?”

“Bingo.”

“And you couldn't call because you left your cell phone in the hotel room.”

“So that's where it is.” The cell phone also functioned as his address book, phone book and appointment calendar. He was screwed without it.

“Your cell isn't the only phone on the planet.”

“I'm forty-eight,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I couldn't remember the name of the damn place.” He moved closer to her, so close she could smell his skin. “You have a lot of questions, Katie, but you haven't asked me the most important one.”

It took a long moment before she found her voice. “Why?” One word with their entire future wrapped up in it.

She held her breath as he reached into the breast pocket of his tux.

“I went back for this.”

He held out his hand and there in the palm was a small circle of gold.

She met his eyes. “My wedding ring?”

“It was in your sock drawer. Took me three hours to find it.”

“How did you even know it was in the house?”

He told her about the letter from Alexis right after the engagement party.

“And you remembered.”

He nodded. “I remembered.”

“I love you,” she said, choking back her tears. “I never stopped.”

“I've loved you from the first day we met, Katie. Without you life doesn't make sense.”

She looked at the ring on his left hand and smiled. “You never took yours off?” she asked. “Not even once?”

“Why would I? I'm a married man.”

She held out her own left hand and he slid the ring back onto her finger. “And I'm a married woman.”

“For better or for worse,” he said.

“Until death do us part,” she whispered.

He drew her into his arms and they were about to seal the promise with a kiss when they realized their three daughters were watching them from the doorway.

“Well, it's about time,” Shannon said.

“Took you long enough,” Taylor chimed in. “We were wondering when you two would realize how much you loved each other.”

“This is the best wedding present in the world.” Alexis was radiant with joy. “I knew Paris would work its magic on you.”

They didn't have the heart to tell her that Paris had had a little help from Aunt Celeste.

“It's time, everyone! Let's hurry!” the wedding coordinator called out. “The flower girls are already moving.”

This was the reason for everything, Kate thought. This was why men and women fell in love, why they married, why they endured the tough times and the disappointments. You did it for your children, so they could grow up knowing the wonderful safety net called family and have the courage to walk out into the world with an open heart, fall in love and start the whole wonderful cycle all over again.

And if you were very lucky, when the kids were gone and the house was quiet once again, your best friend and lover was still there, waiting to discover what wonderful surprises the future held in store for the two of you. It could be Boston. It could be New York. It could even be Paris. Maybe they would buy a boat and sail away together to some tropical paradise where she would paint and he would write. Anything was possible. The future was theirs for the taking and Kate couldn't wait to see where it would lead them.

Shannon and Taylor joined the other bridesmaids for the long walk down the aisle. Alexis took her place between her parents and squeezed their hands.

“I can't believe this is really happening,” she said.

“Well, it is,” Kate said. “It's your wedding day.”

“Not that,” Alexis said. “I mean, I can't believe you and Daddy are finally back together.”

Kate and Ryan looked at each other and thirty
years of shared history passed between them in an instant and with it the promise of at least thirty more.

“We're back together,” Ryan said.

“Forever,” Kate said.

“But there's one more thing,” Alexis said.

“Honey, the music started out there. We have to—”

Alexis was her mother's daughter and she stopped Kate mid-sentence. “I'm the bride. They can't start without me. You two renewed your vows before, but you didn't seal it with a kiss.”

They were in each other's arms in an instant.

The kiss was sweet and it held within it everything they were and all they would become. The two years apart seemed to vanish as if they had never happened and for the first time Kate felt happy again. She was back where she belonged.

The strains of the “Wedding March” flooded the small room and they moved away from each other to flank their daughter. Through the open door they saw a handsome and very nervous Gabe Fellini waiting at the altar for his first glimpse of his bride.

And that was how a family began. A nervous groom, a radiant bride, sweet promises that took years to fully understand and a lifetime to keep. Friends come and friends go. Your children grow up and move away. Careers soar and then fall apart. But through it all, the one you loved was
right there by your side, sharing the sorrows and multiplying the joys.

If Alexis and Gabe had that, they would have everything.

Just like Kate and Ryan.

* * * * *

ISBN: 9781460395622

WE'LL ALWAYS HAVE PARIS

Copyright © 2007 by Barbara Bretton

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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