“You saw me what?”
“When I was delivering flowers on Monday evening to the public library in Apple Creek.” I waited for my words to click. For Bridget to realize what this meant. She only looked confused. “I saw you and that . . . guy? Walking arm in arm into the restaurant next to the library.”
Her face went completely pale. Her eyelids fluttered and she severed eye contact. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It was the same night you canceled plans with William. The same day you said yes to his proposal.”
“Amelia.” She looked straight into my eyes, her face as white as a ghost. “I wasn’t in Apple Creek on Monday night.”
And there I stood, with no clue what to say. This, I hadn’t expected. Sure, eyewitness accounts weren’t the most reliable things, but there was no mistaking that the woman I’d seen on Monday night in Apple Creek had most definitely been Bridget.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course the great-grandparents should have flowers.” Alyssa Green looked at me across the counter with her big doe eyes as I wiped the surface clean with a rag. “And then I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about daffodils. I can’t believe I left them out of the centerpiece arrangements. They symbolize new beginnings, which is perfect for a wedding.”
They also happened to be spring flowers. And this already happened to be the biggest, most stressful wedding I’d ever done. Ten, yes, ten bridesmaids, with hydrangea bouquets. A gorgeous flower, to be sure. But they wilted so easily, they gave me a heart attack. All of which would be manageable if Alyssa wasn’t the most exasperating bride I’d ever worked with. She wasn’t mean, or even a bridezilla. She was simply high maintenance. Like a polite pregnant lady who constantly changed her mind about what she was craving. That was Alyssa, only with her flower arrangements. It made me long for Lily Emerick, Mayfair’s local event planner. Working with Lily on weddings was a cinch. She ordered well in advance and picked up the flowers straight from the shop. Too bad Alyssa hadn’t hired Lily.
“Alyssa, the wedding is this Saturday. I can get the boutonnieres and the corsages, but I’m not sure about the daffodils. I already made the order.” And the centerpiece arrangements were already under way.
Alyssa’s eyes welled with tears.
Maybe if she were a mean bridezilla I could have stuck to my guns. The tears, however, did me in. “I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure my vendor can bring in a special order.”
Alyssa melted with relief. “Oh, thank you!”
I pointed my rag at her. “But no more changing your mind.”
“I promise I won’t!”
The door swung open with a jingle and a swoosh. William breezed inside like a thundercloud—all dark and ominous. He nodded hello to Alyssa, then turned to me. “Can I have a word?”
“Um, sure.”
Looking between us, Alyssa waved good-bye and slipped outside.
William watched her go, then rounded on me as soon as the door closed. “Did you go to school today to talk to Bridget?”
“Yes.”
“She called me in tears this afternoon, saying you accused her of cheating.”
“I never accused her of anything. I simply told Bridget what I saw the evening you proposed to her. That’s all.”
“This is why you’ve been acting so funny, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
William pushed his hands through his hair. It was a stress-induced mannerism inherited from our father. “You’re getting the wrong impression of my fiancée.”
“Why don’t you give me the right one, then?”
“She was having dinner with an old family friend on Monday night. They grew up together. The two are practically brother and sister. He surprised her with an unexpected visit and he’s an affectionate guy. It wasn’t anything.”
The phone rang—a shrill, sharp sound that filled up the silence between us. I let it go to the answering machine.
“William, if that’s true, then why did Bridget lie about being in Apple Creek on Monday night? She looked me straight in the eyes and said it wasn’t her.” The whole thing reeked of guilt.
“Because she panicked. You caught her off guard when you showed up the way you did. She went from thinking something bad had happened to me to thinking you wouldn’t believe her. She made a mistake.”
I stared at William, wishing I could untie this knot of dread in my gut, wishing I could dispel my doubts.
“I’m not a baby anymore, Ames. I trust Bridget.” He set his hands on the counter. “I need you to trust me.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: Thu, Sep 24, 2015 4:12 p.m.
Subject: The Man Who Knew Too Much
Dear Amelia,