“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try, but I’ve seen determined before.” He looked into my eyes. “And my son of a bitch uncle is determined.”
I didn’t think it would help anything if I told Grey what Mason had confided in me. It would only tarnish the image he had of Pops more than before. Grey could do nothing to rewrite history. None of us could help Mason fill in the gaps of a painful childhood.
I don’t know what tricks she had in the bedroom, but none of them worked as leverage where Mason’s decision-making side was concerned. Taylor called two days later to say Mason wasn’t going to budge on the lawsuit. He wanted the Palm Palace ground into the beach and two million in his bank account.
The conversation was stilted. I wasn’t sure if it was starting to sink in that we were on opposite sides of a lawsuit, or if Taylor was distracted because Mason was spending a few days with her.
There was no way things could ever be normal as long as our boyfriends were suing each other. This sucked.
For the next few days, at least, I knew Mason was far from the Palm and Grey.
I tried to put all of it in the back of my head as I climbed the steps to Marin’s aunt’s house. Today was the last of her bridal showers. I clutched a white box in my hand, topped with a fluffy white tulle bow. I had gone with something on the registry. There was a reason she and Pick had chosen the cream china and the colorful accent pieces. I opted for an oval blue platter I thought they could use for entertaining.
I rang the doorbell.
“Come on in, the party’s in here.” A young girl let me in. I wondered if she was one of Marin’s cousins. I heard there were a lot of them.
I dropped my gift on the table before entering the room. With only one week until the wedding, everyone was in good spirits. Marin was surrounded by women, but when she saw me walk in, she waved me over.
“Eden, come meet everybody.”
I hugged her and smiled at the circle of women. This was a traditional shower. The women ranged in age from twenty to eighty. I wasn’t sure I had seen so many sets of pearls in one room. My neck felt a little bare. I was wearing a sundress with a sweater. I probably should have consulted someone other than Grey before I left the house. What did he know about bridal showers?
“This is my Aunt Chrissy, Aunt Shannon, Aunt Lacy, and Aunt Sarah.”
I smiled at all of the women, trying not to be overwhelmed by Marin’s family numbers. “Nice to meet everyone.”
Marin hopped up from the circle. “Tara and Mindy won’t be here until Thursday. I need a non-relative friend right now.” She ushered me into the kitchen.
“What’s going on? Are you ok?” I noticed she suddenly looked pale. Her cheeks matched the white roses on the wrist corsage she wore.
She shook her head. “I’m freaking out.” I saw little beads of perspiration dot the top of her forehead.
“Ok, why don’t you sit down?” I pulled a chair out from the kitchen table. “What’s wrong?” I grabbed a paper cup on the counter and poured lemonade into it before shoving it into her hand.
Marin was visibly shaken. “All of this. It’s too much.” She looked at the kitchen door separating us from the rest of the party. After a few seconds, she took a sip.
“There are a lot of people out there. Maybe you just need a break.” I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have everyone fussing over me like that. I was already feeling claustrophobic and I was just a bridesmaid.
“I’m starting to think I can’t go through with it.”
My jaw dropped. “But, you love Pick. He loves you.” Was I possibly witnessing a runaway bride moment?
Her palms covered her face and she let out a whine. “It’s not him. It’s the wedding. I thought if I rushed it, I could skip all this stuff. There wouldn’t be enough time for showers, parties, and a big reception. All I want is to be married to him. A courthouse ceremony would be fine with me. Or maybe a little destination wedding in Jamaica with ten people. That I think I could handle.”
Marin had grown up with a mother as a wedding planner. Her weekends had been full of brides, wedding cakes, champagne toasts, and bouquet tosses. She was such a hopeless romantic I had assumed she wanted all of those things. I never stopped to ask her. Apparently, no one else had either.
“Have you talked to Pick about how you’re feeling? He’s always good at getting you to smile.”
“He says I just have pre-wedding jitters. I’m supposed to be the older, mature one in this relationship.” She managed a giggle. “He’s the one acting all mature and seasoned about the wedding. He seems completely fine.”
I pulled my phone from my purse.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting a mature and seasoned groom over here.” I waited for him to answer. “Hey, Pick. Do you know where Marin’s Aunt Lacy lives? Ok. Head on over, but come to the kitchen door and don’t let the fifty women out front see you.”