Chose the Wrong Guy, Gave Him the Wrong Finger (35 page)

Burke scoffed.

“Great.” I threw up my hands. “Well, have at it, then. Do the very thing to her that was done to me on
my
one and only wedding day. The circumstances were different, but we were both women who deserved to make our own choices. So if you blow this for her, don’t strain your shoulder patting yourself on the back for it.”

I started to leave but he said, “Quinn.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

“I hear you,” he said, and a small bit of hope surged in me. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please do, Burke.
Please
do.” I turned and went to Glenn, who had half an eye on me and half an eye on the Saran Wrap he was using to cover a pretty silver tray of canapés and fruit.

“Get through to him?”

“I don’t know.” I glanced back at Burke, who, for what it’s worth, was not on his phone. “Maybe.”

“You really think he’s wrong about this?”

Glenn I could be blunt with. “I really do. Lyle’s not the brightest bulb in the box. He doesn’t have highbrow tastes, and, honestly, I think he probably works really hard to balance a checkbook so maybe he’d have a hard time managing a stock portfolio, you know what I mean?”

“He’s stupid?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe. Kind of.”

Glenn laughed. “But a heart of gold, yes?”

“Yes.”

He handed me the tray. “Sounds like just what she needs at this point in her life.”

“Right! Let her be happy. Jeez. She’s been alone for so long now.”

He nodded. “Here’s hoping today goes as planned.”

“Amen. By the way, Dottie had champagne sent over but included a bottle of nonalcoholic sparkling grape for Drinky McDumbass here.” I pointed to myself. “Thanks to Day Drunk Day.”

He laughed out loud. “I know, I’m the one who sent it. She asked for apple cider, but I figured grape was funnier.”

“Almost wine but not quite?”

He pointed a finger gun at me and clicked.

“Very funny.”

“I know. See you at the wedding!”

I turned to go and was shocked to see Aaron across the room with an older woman who I took to be the grandmother he’d told me about. A friend of Dottie’s, most likely, a guest who had brought her grandson as her date. Perfect.

“Glenn! Glenn!” I whispered as loud as I could.

He stopped and looked back at me.

Aaron
, I mouthed, and nodded in his direction.

“What?” He came over.

“That’s
Aaron
, over there with the older woman in blue.”

“Who’s Aaron?”

“The guy from Short Stops. You know,
the guy I told you about
.”

“Oooh.” He looked. “I see what you mean.”

I nodded. “Work on that.”

I took the tray back to the church, where Dottie and her clutch of hens were giggling like teenagers. She had no idea that Burke was on the warpath, and I hoped, so very much, that he wouldn’t show up.

“Here she is, my hero!” Dottie cried when she saw me. “My goodness, I am starving.”

“You are in luck.” I put the tray down in front of her. “Glenn has outdone himself, I can tell. Everything is beautiful.”

“Oooh, lovely!” She chose a square of ham and cheese, which I happened to know was one of the best things on earth, thanks to the brown sugar–cured ham Glenn used. “Mmm-mm. Doris, pour Quinn a sparkling juice, would you?” She gave her friend a Significant Look that I guess she thought I wouldn’t notice.

Four glasses of champagne and one glass of grape juice were poured and we all raised our flutes to toast Dottie and Lyle’s future happiness. And as time wore on and the women put on their makeup and gabbed merrily about events from long ago in their history, I felt more and more optimistic that Burke had heeded my advice and reconsidered his assault on the marriage.

He wasn’t without romance in his heart, I knew that. Maybe he’d had character flaws that made him a lousy fiancé and, presumably, husband, but I knew—I
knew
—underneath it all he had a good heart.

So when there was a knock on the door in the midst of the revelry, I thought only that it must be the pastor, coming to alert us all that it was time to get into position for the wedding ceremony.

“I do believe it’s getting to be about that time!” Adrianne Parker trilled to Dottie. “The bells are about to be ringing and
you
are about to be a missus again!”

“Lord help you,” Lorel Beard chimed in. “If I hadn’t seen your Lyle, I’d wonder what had gotten into you to make you do such a damn fool thing as getting married again.” She giggled and raised her glass. “But I think I know
exactly
what’s gotten into you. More power to you!”

There were shouts of “Amen” and clinking glasses, then Sukie Maynard went to the door.

Then there was a weird moment when I could feel, in my entire being, the pull between the lighthearted excitement of the women on my left, and a dark pull on my right, by the door.

I knew what it was, of course.

I’d felt this before. I knew exactly what it was.

Sukie came back to the group, looking confused. Not alarmed. Maybe I wouldn’t even have gone so far as saying
concerned
to describe her expression, but she clearly knew something was
off
.

“Dottie,” she said, but her voice was lost in the laughter, and she repeated, louder, “Dottie?”

Dottie looked up. “Yes, baby?”

“Burke’s at the door,” Sukie answered. “He says he’d like to talk to Dottie. Alone.”

Chapter 26

June, Ten Years Ago

It wasn’t as if Quinn wouldn’t admit she was a romantic. She was
definitely
a romantic. But today was ridiculous, even for her.

Granted, it was her wedding day, so she was supposed to be on cloud nine, but she had the strangest sensation of walking through a dream. It was like a movie sequence about heaven—everything was perfect: her dress, the weather, the forecast for their honeymoon in Jamaica.

How had she gotten so lucky as to truly find the love of her life at such a young age and never have to go through the heartbreak that most had to suffer? All those songs, movies, books about it, and she’d slid into Burke Morrison’s arms at fourteen and he’d never let go.

On some level she must have believed she didn’t quite deserve the luck. That would explain the low hum of anxiety deep in the pit of her stomach right now. The niggling fear that this wasn’t real. It was an elaborate hoax to set her up for a fall. By … God? It was silly. Maybe everyone felt this kind of fear, that complete devastation could hide in the shadows of perfect happiness.

“Quinn!” Karen, one of her bridesmaids, came tripping over with a glass of champagne and a giggle. “A little liquid courage for the bride!”

“She doesn’t need courage,” another bridesmaid, Rami, said. “She’s only marrying the cutest guy who ever went to our high school. No offense, Quinn, I’m not after him, but you gotta know it’s true.”

“I don’t know,” Karen said, sipping the champagne she’d just brought over for Quinn. “There was Phil Edwards. Lee Holloway. Glenn Ryland. There were a lot of cute guys on the football team.”

Quinn took the half-empty glass from Karen’s hand. “I’m not into competition, thank you very much. You can take your Phils, your Lees, your Glenns, just leave my Burke alone.”

“As soon as you get the ring on him, ain’t no one gonna try and take him away,” the maid of honor, Jackie, said. “So get your makeup on, girlie, and get out there to claim your man. You never know what’s going to happen in the meantime!”

They all laughed, and Quinn went to the Jergens plug-in-light-up makeup mirror she’d brought, knowing the lighting in the church rectory was going to be so crummy she’d look like a clown in daylight if she relied on it alone.

“Are you nervous?” Rami asked, sitting down next to Quinn on the bench seat in front of the piano where Quinn had set up the mirror.

Quinn thought about it for a moment, swiping Great Lash mascara onto her lashes. Was she
nervous
or just eager to have it done so this crazy feeling that her happiness wasn’t real would end?

“I’m not nervous,” Quinn said. “I have never been as sure of anything in my life as I am that I want to be Mrs. Burke Morrison.”

“That is
so
old-fashioned,” Karen said. “Are you seriously changing your name to his?”

“Yes.” Quinn felt a flush of anticipation.
Quinn Morrison
. She couldn’t wait.

How many times, and in how many places, had she been exactly the clichéd schoolgirl scripting all the variations?

Quinn Morrison.

Mrs. Burke Morrison.

Mrs. Quinn Morrison.

Mr. and Mrs. Burke Morrison.

And, for a brief period during which she’d gotten grandiose ideas from watching too many Lifetime TV shows,
Dr. Quinn Morrison
.

Sounded familiar. So it must have been right.

There was a knock at the door, then it swung open and her mother came in, smiling. “You’re looking beautiful,” she said. “Don’t go too heavy on the black liner, remember.” She always said that. “Got your chocolate.” She held out a Toblerone bar.

“Oh,
thank you
.” Quinn tore into it. Chocolate always made her feel better when she was nervous. Not that she was nervous, because she wasn’t, but she’d still had a last-second craving for chocolate and sent her mother out to get it.

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, looking just the same for as long as Quinn could remember, and Quinn felt a pang of melancholy at knowing today was the day she officially grew up and was no longer a little girl anymore. “Now. What can I do for you?”

“Just tell me I’m going to live happily ever after.”

“Of course you are,” her mother said, then frowned. “Do you have any doubts?”

The laughter and chat of the bridal party filled the silence as Quinn thought about her answer.

“No,” she said honestly. The room was large and, despite the party atmosphere of her friends, this conversation with her mother felt very private. “But this day just feels so perfect that I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Her mother laid a warm hand on her shoulder. “Everyone feels that way on their wedding day. Like it’s the biggest day of their life and nothing else can live up. But the truth is, it’s just the first day of your
new
life.” She paused and gave a small chuckle. “And that sounded even more hackneyed than I meant for it to.” Her eyes met Quinn’s in the mirror. “But it’s true. Tomorrow everything is different. The same but different.”

Quinn felt tears fill her eyes and put her hand on her mother’s. “I’m so happy. Right now I’m so perfectly happy, I wish I could just freeze this moment and relive it over and over again.”

“You can. Why on earth wouldn’t you be able to? Every time you want a little lift, you remember your wedding day. I do.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

They both laughed.

Quinn took out her eye shadow palette and carefully brushed on some neutral browns. She didn’t want anything too dramatic. With the black mascara and black liner—carefully and subtly applied, per her mother’s instructions—she had enough going on.

As emotional as she was, she just hoped she wouldn’t cry. The mascara looked great on but was notorious for being saltwater soluble. She didn’t need wet black rivers running down her cheeks as she took her vows at the altar.

“Do you ever regret marrying Daddy so young?” Quinn’s parents had gotten married when they were both twenty-one.

“Oh, I’ve
questioned
it a million times, and I’ll probably question it a million more. Every time he irks me, I question it. But regret? No. Never.”

Quinn swept some blush across her cheeks, then turned the lighted mirror off and turned to face her mother. “And you
know
he doesn’t regret it!”

“I think he questions it himself sometimes, but no.” She smiled. “I don’t think he regrets it. But the person who doesn’t question his or her major decisions is a fool.” She hesitated. “Maybe a lucky fool, but a fool nonetheless.”

“The music’s starting, Quinn!” Karen called, then shrieked as Rami bumped into her and they both spilled their champagne. “That gives you about fifteen minutes until the final countdown.”

Quinn took a bite of her chocolate. The champagne would be tempting if she didn’t have to be sure she didn’t trip, or slur, or otherwise make a fool of herself.

What was with these nerves she was experiencing?

Jamaica
,
Jamaica
,
Jamaica
, she thought silently to herself. In twenty-four hours she’d be on a beach in Jamaica with Burke—her
husband
—by her side and all the fanfare would be over. They’d be baking under a bright Caribbean sun during the day, and making love to the sound of the waves lapping the shore all night. It would be pure bliss, the perfect cap to this beautiful wedding day.

Just thinking about it, the sun and Burke’s hand in hers, made her relax.

It was just nerves, she told herself. She’d never been one to love being the center of attention, and that was the truth. Ever since she got engaged, she’d had a vague fear that she’d trip on her way up the aisle, or pass out on the altar, or do something else that made her look like a complete fool. The comparison would be even worse next to the always-confident Burke.

Fortunately, the always-confident Burke had never let her fall, literally or figuratively, so even if she started to, he’d catch her.

That was one thing she could always count on him for. He’d always catch her when she fell.

Wouldn’t he?

She stood up and slipped her feet into her grandmother’s satin wedding shoes. They were a tiny bit too tight, but still wearable, and they were so perfect with her dress that she figured she could make the short walk up the aisle and stand for pictures in them, then switch to the more comfortable, if ordinary, satin pumps she’d gotten from the Payless at the mall.

Everyone hushed and looked at her.

“Honey, you look beautiful,” her mother said to her.