Saved by the Bride

chapter Thirteen

When Bridey saw Hank come downstairs the next morning wearing sunglasses, she silently handed him a glass of tomato juice and a handful of Vitamin B tablets. He’d crashed before dinner and had slept twelve hours straight. “What were you thinking?”

He took a sip of the juice, shuddered and put the glass on the table as he gingerly sat on a chair. “Don’t start, Bridey.”

He looked so unwell that she should have been sympathetic, but the unusual warning tone in his voice only ramped up her anger that had been simmering all night. She was furious with him, and her mother, for their impromptu lawn party that had ended up with her assisting both of them into their respective beds.

She folded her arms. “Not drinking on an empty stomach is something they teach you at high school.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I called in to see your mother who’d been expecting you or Finn. It was obvious she had cabin fever so I offered to set her up outside so she could enjoy the view, the breeze and do some reading. After I’d lugged everything she insisted she needed out under the tree and had arranged everything exactly the way she wanted, I was hot and sweaty. She offered me—” his fingers made quotation marks, “—‘a refreshing drink.’ I’d gulped down a glass before I had a clue what it was.”

He rubbed his temples with a sigh. “I thought your family had Irish descendents, not Southern ones. You’re the one who should have warned me about your mother’s juleps.”

“What can I say? The Irish love Irish whiskey, bourbon whiskey, any whiskey.” She knew without a doubt she should have visited her mother yesterday morning because Kathleen was finding it difficult being at Kylemore and hated being dependent on people. As a result, her mom was often pedantic and Hank had been the recipient of all those emotions yesterday.

She quickly flattened the flicker of guilt and instead, justified to herself that the previous day’s discussions about wedding invitations with Annika was an essential part of the foundations for her and Hank’s future. She lugged a pile of magazines and her wedding planner from the side table, and with a thud, dumped them in front of Hank.

He flinched at the noise.

She didn’t care. Everything depended on their wedding being perfect and that started with choosing the right venue. That decision must happen today. Flicking open the brochures from the Newberry Library and three other venues, she said, “I sent you the links to all these places last week.” She smiled encouragingly. “So, where are we getting married?”

Hank grimaced. “My head’s pounding, Bridey, and my mouth feels like the bottom of a birdcage.”

“But you’ve read the information. Surely you must have some thoughts.”

Hank took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite his long sleep, fatigue still cloaked him. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t checked out the links. Last week I worked seventeen hours a day and I’m not dealing with this until I’ve eaten something.”

She couldn’t stop herself. “If you’d eaten something yesterday we wouldn’t be in this position.”

He slowly slid his glasses back on his face and when he spoke his voice was cool. “Bridey, what’s going on?”

All her frustrations of a delayed vacation and her rising fears generated by the weekend, collided and then morphed into a massive ball of disappointment. Disappointment edged with the golden gilt of fear—fear that Hank was slipping away from her. That he hadn’t proposed to her because he didn’t want to get married.

She threw her arms up in the air as her insecurities ignited her Irish temper. “Nothing is going on and that’s the problem. I thought you came up here to see me, but instead you’ve spent time with everybody else in my family, and I’ve hardly seen you. Yesterday, when I finally found you, you were hammered. Now you’re going back to Chicago and if we’re getting married any time next year we’ve got decisions to make.”

“Fine.” Without taking a close look at any of the brochures, he picked one up. “This one.”

He doesn’t care. Her jaw tightened so much she could hardly speak. “Why?”

He sighed. “Bridey, if you’re not happy with this choice then you choose.”

No, you must be involved. She tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice. “I want to know why you chose this one.”

He shrugged. “No particular reason. They all look the same.”

Anger spurted. “No. They. Don’t.”

Hank tapped every brochure’s picture of white-clothed tables and chairs. “Yes. They. Do.”

With trembling fingers, she gathered up the brochures and shoved them back into the folder. “If you’re going to be a jerk about this then don’t even bother.”

Censure shone in his eyes. “Now you’re sounding like a spoiled child.”

Shock at his criticism combined with the sting of his words, making her angrier. “I’ve put down deposits on four venues so we could make a personal choice but all you’ve done is random selection. Do you have any idea what has to happen between now and next July? How many decisions have to be made about everything from where we get married to the honeymoon, and a million tiny details in between? How can me wanting our wedding to be perfect make me spoiled?” Her fist hit her heart. “At least I care, which is more than you do at the moment.”

Every hair on his body seemed to rise and he pressed his palms flat against the table as if that action would prevent him from doing something he might regret. He levered himself up slowly, his face as hard as granite. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. When you’ve got some perspective about the wedding plans, let me know.”

For the first time ever, he turned his back on her and walked away.

His unfamiliar anger sent panic swirling through her, bumping and clanging against all her fears. “Hank, wait!”

But he disappeared though the door without a backward glance, and the rigid set of his shoulders told her there was absolutely no point following him.

Her stomach churned and her heart beat so fast it threatened to bruise itself on her ribs. She couldn’t believe he’d left. They’d never argued about anything. Until the engagement. Her heart cramped. Since their engagement there’d been tiny disagreements, mostly over the party plans, but she’d smoothed them over. Today was very different.

She spun the ring on her finger—the ring Hank had paid for. The ring she’d chosen and ordered because when she’d asked him about rings, he’d kissed her and said, “Choose the one that makes you happy.” At the time she’d thought it was the most romantic thing in the world for him to have said. Now her heart quivered with uncertainty. Was this ring just another example of him not caring about the wedding? Not caring about them? Why had he said yes to her proposal if he didn’t want to get married?

He works for your father. He’s spent the weekend with your family. The traitorous thought seeped into her like poison. The enormous diamond sparkled in the sunshine that poured in through the windows. The ring that represented indestructible love. Her falling tears didn’t dent its mocking shine.

* * *

Annika loved the serenity of the cabin and the peace of the woods, but she missed Finn. She missed his laugh, she missed the warmth of his arms and, God help her, she missed the sex. Her body quivered at the merest thought of him but without Finn in bed next to her, the attraction of sleeping between the softness of high thread count sheets had faded quickly.

He’d been caught up in Chicago longer then he’d expected but in an act that made her heart sing, he’d made a flying visit late on Tuesday, leaving again early Wednesday. She’d felt slightly guilty when his alarm had gone off at 5:00 a.m. because they hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. The sex had been amazing as usual, but it was the lying in his arms with his fingers trailing through her hair, while they talked through the night, that she treasured most.

She’d kept to their agreed routine of spending the mornings in the office and the afternoons in the studio, but to help the long Finn-less evenings pass she’d pulled a couple of really late nights in the studio. She hadn’t done any painting. She hadn’t even unrolled the first two canvases of Dawn and Day because despite what Finn thought, she was far too busy to start painting and just the thought of it had her running scared.

Working late was good on so many levels and when she got back to the cabin she fell into an exhausted sleep which gave her no time to think about anything at all—especially how much she missed Finn. She couldn’t allow herself to miss him because all of this was very, very temporary. She hauled her mind back to the computer screen in the office and started checking the email folders she’d created so she could keep the AKP work totally separate from her correspondence connected with Whitetail. Every day she checked in with Ellery and checked her Whitetail mail, hoping there’d be a nibble of interest from the one hundred and eighty information packs she’d sent out.

She hovered her mouse over an email from a Ty Dennison, not recognizing the name. She clicked the left side of the mouse.

“Esther said you were looking for me, Annika?”

She glanced up from the screen to see Sean strolling into the office with a smile on his face.

“Morning, Sean. Yes, I was.” She picked up a black folder and handed it to him. “Finn asked me to give this to you.”

His intelligent eyes gave her a dry look. “I heard the helicopter at six.”

Something about the way he said it made her feel uncomfortable and it had nothing to do with the fact that Finn’s family had probably worked out they were sleeping together. “He wants to be in Chicago if anything else flares up with the Jazz Juice account.”

He nodded slowly. “Of course he does.”

The message buried in Sean’s words was clear. Finn spent the least amount of time possible with his father. “I’m sorry, Sean, I can only tell you what he told me.”

“When do you expect him back?”

Not soon enough. “Friday.”

“Ah.” He tapped the folder on his thigh.

She found herself blurting out, “Can I help with anything, Sean?” I’m already trying to get him to talk to you.

“Not unless you’re a miracle worker.” He gave her a sad smile. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of and this problem’s all mine and mine to fix.” He rested one buttock on the edge of her desk. “So, how are things with you, Annika? Sounds like you’re busy. I heard you on the radio this morning selling the concept of Whitetail as the new hub of heartland manufacturing.”

She groaned. “I was trying hard to but it turns out the interviewer had just got engaged and she was more interested in talking about the wedding expo the town put on the day I went to court.”

“Bridey tells me you might be designing her invitations so a bit of free advertising on the radio can’t hurt.”

She was getting weary of trying to explain her concerns about Weddings That WOW. “I find it hard to imagine that it could provide the level of employment the town needs.”

He rubbed his chin. “People spend a lot of money on weddings, Annika. Bridey’s almost bankrupted me on deposits alone, and yesterday she was mumbling something about a nine-thousand-dollar wedding cake.”

“Nine thous—” Annika choked on her indrawn breath and started coughing violently.

Sean rose and poured her a glass of water before handing it to her with a smile. “That was pretty much my reaction too. I’ll let you get back to work.”

She nodded her goodbye, still trying to find her breath and after sipping the water she finally read the now opened email.

Dear Ms. Jacobson,

Long River Electronics is looking to expand and is interested in visiting your town. I wish to fly in next week and would appreciate you confirming Tuesday at 2 p.m. I look forward to meeting with you and touring the facilities.

Ty Dennison

CEO and owner of Long River Electronics

Annika blinked and read it three times before she let out a whoop of delight. She grabbed her phone wanting to share the good news. Her fingers bounced over the keypad in excitement and it was only when the call defaulted to voice mail that she realized she’d phoned Finn instead of Ellery. She refused to consider that meant anything more than a momentary lapse due to excitement.

* * *

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.”