Four Weddings and a Break Up (17 page)

“Trust me, this isn’t too much. You look spectacular. Hold on.” The necklace was locked, its weight settling on Ginny, the earrings dangling heavily from her lobes. “Let me make sure your mom and sister have their eyes closed. Hold for just a sec.”

Ginny heard the rustle of the curtain being pulled back slightly.

“No peeking, Faith and Julie.”

After her mom and sister agreed, Rachel pushed back the curtain all the way. Ginny grasped Rachel’s arm as Rachel led her out.

“I’m going to untie the blindfold now. Bend down so I can reach it.” The silk scarf was unknotted and taken away. “Don’t look yet.”

Ginny kept her gaze on the wall straight ahead. Although the temptation to peek beckoned like a moth to a flame.

“Faith. Julie. Here she is.”

Her mom and sister gasped. “Ginny!”

“Is it bad?”

“No!” Rachel turned her toward the mirror. “Just take a look for yourself.”

Holy shit on a stick.

She looked hot. She
was
hot.

A 1920s-style beaded dress in pewter, dipped low in the front and back. When she turned just so, the material flared out at her knees. A long pearl necklace, knotted at the end, hung low past her breasts. Her wrists were bejeweled in slim pewter bangles, and her ears showcased sparkly crystal earrings. Her shoes were pewter strappy heels with little jewels at the top. If she had a beaded purse and long cigarillo, she could be an extra in
The Great Gatsby
. But it wasn’t costume-y.

It was unique. It was something more. And this was something she normally would never wear. She never thought she could have pulled off a dress of this fashion. Usually for the 1920s, she thought flapper dresses and girls with bobs and tiny figures.

This dress looked like it had been tailored with her in mind. The pewter beaded fabric shaped to her curves, making her look like some type of goddess.

Someone who wasn’t invisible.

“Do you like it?” Her mom had joined her; Julie hung back, talking to Rachel.

Like didn’t encompass it. Ginny loved this dress. But a dress like this had to be well out of her budget. She geared herself up for that disappointment and started to search for the price tag.

Her mom stopped her. “I’m taking care of it.”

“Mom, I can’t let you do that.”

“I’m doing it.” Her mom stood firm. “You look beautiful, Ginger. Like a movie star. And if I can’t play Fairy Godmother to your Cinderella, or the Richard Gere to your Julia Roberts.”

“Ew. Mom. No on the
Pretty Woman
comparison.” Julie came forward. “Ginny’s not a prostitute, and you’re no Richard Gere.”

“Either way, I’m taking care of it.”

Ginny had to tell her mom that she and Wes weren’t really dating. It felt wrong to accept a dress and other things, especially when it was obvious her mom was building the relationship up to more than what it could ever be. It wasn’t like Wes would stay. Lying to her mom when she only wanted the best for Ginny made her feel awful and guilty and horrible. “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Julie cleared her throat. “She’s not going to be stupid. She’s going to take you up on your generous offer. That’s the end of it.”

“But . . .” Ginny stopped when her sister narrowed her eyes. Julie quickly shook her head. There had to be a reason why she didn’t want Ginny to confess. And she didn’t want her mom to be disappointed in her—that she had lied to her mom because she was constantly pushing guys on her. Ginny worried her lower lip and her shoulders slumped. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Her mom laughed. “This is so much fun! You take off everything as quick as you can. I’ll pay for all of it. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

“Mom.” Ginny’s throat tightened. “Thank you.”

“Oh, Ginny, you know I love you.”

Ginny nodded her head and headed to the dressing room. She took off everything she had put on and handed it to Rachel. Her mom and Rachel disappeared to the front. Ginny quickly put her stuff on and stepped back out. Julie was waiting for her.

“Why did you stop me?” Ginny demanded.

Julie didn’t play dumb or beat around the bush. “Because Mom’s happy. You saw her! Ever since you mentioned dating Wes—no, before that. Ever since Grant started working at The Gray Lady, Mom’s just been her old self. I know you and Wes are pretend dating and all, but things can change.”

“I don’t think they will,” Ginny said.

“What? You have a crystal ball now?” Julie stepped forward. “C’mon, Ginny. You said it just a few minutes ago. You
like
him.”

“He said—” Ginny blew out a puff of air. “He said he doesn’t want anything real because he wasn’t made for real. We agreed that there’d be ‘no real emotions’ between us.”

“You have rules?” Julie shook her head and then burst out laughing.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and peered out to make sure her mom was still busy at the front register with Rachel. “Why are you laughing? Rules are a
good
thing. Rules ensure that we follow a certain protocol. Rules set boundaries. Rules—”

“Rules are meant to be broken.” Her sister studied her. “Something tells me that a few of your rules have already been broken.”

“We’re not having sex! Not except for that first time—but that was
before
we knew each other and before the
deal
. The other time doesn’t count. It really wasn’t sex.”

“The fact that there even was
another time—”

“It was
nothing
. Trust me. After that, he avoided me. So how much clearer can it be? We’ve made up and all that,” Ginny said with a wave of a hand. “But Wes has told me over and over again that he’s leaving Cape Hope at the end of August. Once he is gone, he’s leaving everything behind. There’s no room for me in his life.”

“Yet he’s the one who made the deal in the first place.”

Ginny had told Julie everything the day after she’d met with Wes; or, rather, Julie had forced it out of her. “So?”

“So it was
his
idea. Did you want the kissing?”

Julie already knew this. Ginny didn’t see the point in belaboring the issue. “You know that was his idea, too.”

“Have you ever initiated any type of kissing?”

“Maybe one time. I mean, this is the 21st Century. And—”

“One thing at a time. You’ve kissed him?”

“Yes.”

“That means he’s kissed you, too. He’s taken the initiative, I mean.”

“Yes.”

“And you want to kiss him again, which means you like—”

“I’ve said I liked him.” Her sister should have been a lawyer. “Isn’t that enough?”

“We’ll leave that alone. For now. But he’s done most of this on his own initiative.”

“Is ‘initiative’ the word of the day or something?”

“You know I don’t use that calendar you gave me.” Julie pointed at her. “Don’t distract me. We’re talking about you and Wes and how fake this whole ‘fake dating’ really is. Because there is so nothing fake about what’s going on here. I’d bet my bottom dollar that he
like
-likes you, too.”

Ginny couldn’t let herself hope that. It would just lead to bitter disappointment. “You’d lose.”

“Fine. Let’s make a bet. Ten dollars says he likes you and tells you that, and that this pretend relationship leads to the real thing.”

Like that would ever happen. “You’re on.”

They shook hands, sealing the bet.

“Mom looks like she paid for everything. So let’s go out there and find out what this secret adventure of hers is.”

After they got into the car, their mom turned to them. “Girls. Now I went ahead and did something else. Something to go along with the whole makeover theme of the day.”

“I didn’t know this was a makeover theme,” Ginny said. “I thought it was just shopping.”

“Shush.” Her mom started the car, backed out of the spot, and started driving.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Mom. What is it?” Julie asked.

“We’re going to the spa for manicures and pedicures and haircuts and massages! I did this whole package where we can even get a light lunch there. Doesn’t that sound just fabulous?”

Actually, it did.

S
he now knew
what paradise was, and it was the one-hour massage at Tranquility. It wasn’t until late afternoon, after she’d been rubbed, had both sets of nails painted, her hair trimmed, and lunch eaten, that they left the spa. Her mom and Julie helped her bring the shopping bags into her apartment, and then with another goodbye and thanks, her mom and sister left.

Now, she was alone.

The day had been fantastic. While Vintage hadn’t had many shoppers in it, or residents from Cape Hope since it had been early in the morning, the spa had been fairly crowded, despite the clear, sunny day. No one had asked her anything, no looks of concern shot her way. She’d felt almost normal.

Maybe part of the problem had been with her, too. Perhaps she’d gotten so fearful and had avoided things that she’d shut herself off so that she wouldn’t get hurt in the future.

She didn’t want to be afraid.

She needed to stop running away when things got scary or frightening or were unknown. She needed to take control of her life, and not let her past affect her any longer. Her journey that she’d begun on the Glorious Food festival took a new path.

No more fear
.

Emboldened by her new outlook, Ginny decided to go to Wes’ dad’s house, where Wes was staying. Maybe the first step would be to tell him about the past—about what had happened. Not keeping things in would help her in the long run.

She walked down her steps, headed outside, and went to grab her bike. As she went to ride it, she noticed the back tire was flat. How had that happened? Had she’d ridden over something and not noticed? She would have to buy a new tire soon. It was such a beautiful day, and his dad’s house really wasn’t that far away. She could walk.

About twenty minutes later, she arrived at the Flaherty home. It was a wide, mint-green Victorian with a dark roof and wrap-around porch. Ginny started up for the stairs and was about to knock on the front door when it was suddenly pulled open. She stumbled into a hard, masculine chest; his arms came around to steady her. She looked up.

It was Wes. His hair disheveled, his clothes rumpled and dirtied, his expression lined with worry and fear.

“Ginny?”

“What’s wrong?” She stepped away from him but kept her hand on his arm. “Is everything okay?”

“I thought it was . . .” He swallowed. “I thought you were my father.”

“Why would you—”

“Is that him?” A masculine voice shouted from inside the house. Hurried footsteps. Then Jake popped his head out. His tone was full of disappointment. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me.” She looked between them. “What’s going on?”

She heard the rev of a motorcycle engine pulling into the driveway before it died away. She turned to see TJ taking off his helmet and bounding up the steps.

“Hey, I took a quick drive around town and didn’t find him anywhere.”

“Is it Seth?” she asked. “Has he pulled a runaway groom?”

“Nope, I’m right here,” Seth said, walking out from the house. He had a cordless phone in his hand. “I called the police, but they’re giving me the standard has to be missing for forty-eight hours.”

Two and two equaled four, and five minus four equaled one, and that left one person missing from the Flaherty equation. “Is something wrong with your dad?”

All the brothers turned to her, but it was Wes who answered, his tone bleak.

“He’s missing.”

H
e’s missing
?”

Wes nodded, his heart pounding. “Yeah. Since after lunch. He said he was going out in the backyard. I looked away and had to deal with a phone call. By the time I looked back, he was gone.”

Ginny’s expression softened. “Oh, Wes. It’s not your fault.”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell him,” Jake said. “It could happen to any of us.”

“Why don’t we go inside to talk?” Seth suggested. “We can figure out what to do next.”

Wes motioned for Ginny to sit down on the leather couch, and he sat next to her. TJ took the other end while Seth and Jake sat in the leather chairs. Ever since he’d discovered his dad missing, he’d grown more and more worried. Frantic.

What if something bad happened to Dad? What if Dad was lost or hurt? There were just so many awful “what if” scenarios that played through his head. Each minute that passed struck new fear into Wes’ heart.

Ginny’s hand slid into his, squeezing. He squeezed back, grateful for the small ounce of comfort.

“What was your dad wearing?” Ginny asked.

“He had on light khaki shorts. A blue t-shirt. Sneakers. A baseball cap. Phillies, I think.” Wes swallowed thickly. “He said he was just going outside to work on something.”

“Let’s think where he normally goes to,” Jake suggested.

Seth grabbed the legal pad from the coffee table and pen. “There’s the beach. The outdoor market.”

“Charlie’s,” TJ added, mentioning the local diner. “And a good chance he could have gone to one of the bars or even the grocery store.”

“There’s also any of the old houses he used to work on. You know how he likes to go past those and point out what he built or remodeled,” Jake said with a fond smile.

Wes didn’t know any of this, but he felt like he
should
. Because he didn’t know the workings of the only family he had left, he could lose his father before truly making amends with him. But right now he couldn’t focus on that and kick himself over past mistakes. He needed to concentrate of finding his dad and trying to bring him back safe and sound.

“If he’s going to old places he’s built, do you think there’s a chance he’ll go to the new ones?” he asked.

“It’s possible,” Jake said.

“And don’t forget the lighthouse and boardwalk,” Ginny suggested.

“Okay,” Jake told them, “now we have a list of places we can look. I think if Seth, TJ, and I divide this list up and go out to look for him, we can find him. Seth, can you call up Liam and ask him to check the Worth? Also your fiancée and see if she can get some people to help out.”

“Already on it,” Seth said as he started dialing.

“TJ, grab any people you know,” Jake instructed. “I’ll call up a few of my friends.”

“What do you want me to do?” Wes asked. But what he really meant was: Don’t you want my help, too? Wes felt useless and helpless; two things he never liked to feel. Never let himself feel.

Jake stood. “You’re going to wait here in case Dad wanders back on his own. I want you here for that. He knows your face. If he’s disoriented at all, your voice and your look will help center him.”

“I can do that.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, then stopped himself.
Don’t let doubt enter your mind
. He straightened and squared his shoulders, feeling a small measure of his old self return to him—the same self that made things happen and was confident of the successful outcome. “You’re going to find him.”

“Of course we are,” Jake said, just as confidently.

Perhaps he and Jake were just really good at bullshit. After his brothers left, he and Ginny were alone in the empty house.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“Don’t be silly!” Ginny looked insulted. “Of course, I’m going to stay with you. Why don’t we go into the kitchen? I’ll make some tea—something calming. I do know how to make desserts. I know your dad likes those sugar cookies. Does he like brownies?”

“I think so.”

“Okay. So let’s go in there. I won’t tell you not to worry; I can only imagine how nerve-wracking and frightening this must be for you.”

“I’m fine,” he lied as they headed into the kitchen. He sat at the small circular table and noticed the kitchen needed to be repainted. The apple-green color was fading. He put it on his to do list for the next couple of days.

“You’re not fine, Wes.” Ginny put water into the teakettle and set it on the stove. “Where’s your tea?”

“Cupboard to your left.”

Ginny grabbed it. “And where is everything else?”

“Hold on.” He joined her at the counter. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll grab it for you.”

After he got the supplies, he sat back down.

“You know,” Ginny said as she brought over a medium silver bowl and some eggs. “I think you’re just going to sit and brood if I let you. So I’m going to put you to work and keep you busy. You’re going to help me.”

“I am?”

“Yes.” She gave him the eggs. “You are. Crack those and put them in the bowl.”

Since he had nothing else to do, he might as well do this. “Maybe I should do this at the counter.”

“Maybe you should,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m putting all the dry ingredients in this bowl. You can do all the wet ones.”

She passed him the ingredients he needed, and for a few moments, he listened to her instructions and added what was needed, then stirred them together.

“Now we have to transfer them. You put your stuff into my bowl.”

“Your stuff? That sounds like a pretty fancy cooking term.”

She smacked him on his arm. “Hey, I never said I was the next Julia Child.”

When the ingredients were combined into one bowl, she passed the bigger silver bowl to him and handed him a whisk. “Now stir for two minutes.”

The oven beeped, and Ginny coated a pan with Crisco. Once the mixture was ready, Ginny had him pouring the thick brown liquid into the pan, spreading it evenly. Once it was in the oven, Ginny set the timer, then poured two cups of tea.

He leaned against the counter, blowing air across the steaming liquid, trying to cool it down. He took a small sip. He normally wasn’t a tea drinker, but this was pretty good. He tasted chamomile and a hint of peppermint. “What type is this?”

“It’s apparently supposed to be stress-relieving tea.” Ginny shrugged. “Who knows if it works?”

“Why don’t we sit down?” He waited for her to take a seat before he did. He placed the saucer on the table, turning it. Things were weighing heavily on his mind. His relationship with his dad and brothers. How he still missed Mom at odd moments. How he wished things could have turned out somewhat differently, and he hadn’t grown so distant from his family. “Ginny. Your mom . . .”

He didn’t know what he was going to say. His words trailed off into empty space.

“My mom,” Ginny said, “well, you’ve met her. She’s one of a kind, that’s for sure. Sometimes, I wonder where she came from, and I’m sure she does the same, especially when she’s mad at me. But I love her dearly.”

“My dad.” He stared at the tea, giving himself time. “I didn’t really know him growing up. My parents divorced when I was one. I don’t remember it. I just know the stories I was told from my mom, and what he would tell me over the phone. The first real memory I have of him was when I visited here. I was maybe seven or eight years old, and he had remarried, and all my brothers had been born.”

“You didn’t see him from two to seven?”

“I’m sure I did. I just don’t remember. I don’t have any recollection of it.”

This time it was Ginny who stared at her tea. “What about photos? Don’t you have any of you as a kid?”

“Yeah, some. But my mom took those. There is one photo I have of Dad, my brothers and I when I was ten in front of some house he was working on at the time.” He met her gaze. “I hated him as a kid. When I was old enough, I took my mom’s last name—she never asked me to do that, but I wanted to honor her. I also didn’t want anything to do with him at that point because I hated what he’d done to my mother—cheating on her, then marrying the other woman. And I hated that I hated him, that I thought those things. That I was jealous of what I didn’t have.”

“Oh, Wes, that’s perfectly normal.”

“I had a great mom, Ginny. The best. Even though we weren’t rich—far from it—she always made sure I had the things I needed. And she did try to keep her feelings about Dad to herself.”

“Did she?”

“Of course she’d let loose on him from time to time. She was still angry at him when I was young. They’d get into these awful fights on the phone, or when she came to pick me up.” Wes had hated that—he remembered being so frightened when they had fought. When his mom had cried, it had broken his heart. He had wanted to make sure she was never hurt again. “She needed somebody on her side. She didn’t have anyone but me.”

“She never remarried?”

“No. She dated, but none of that ever led anywhere. I don’t think she ever dated the right type of man.” How could he have forgotten that? His mom had often dated men who needed fixing but they never stayed after they were back in one piece. Maybe it was her way of shielding her heart. “Still, she had a career. She raised me and seemed happy.”

Ginny studied him. “It sounds like she had a good life.”

“She never forced me to take sides.” His hands gripped the saucer. “She would never do that. Dad had his new wife and three other sons. My mom just had me. I wasn’t going to shift my loyalties or love from her. Dad and I are just so . . . different. He’s this larger than life person. Intimidating. Loud. And I wasn’t like that.”

“What were you like?”

“I was a daredevil. A troublemaker. You know my next door neighbor, Lois Jacobs?” Ginny nodded her head, and he continued, “I really did use to streak naked through her backyard.”

“I thought she was only joking.”

“She wasn’t.” He laughed. “I’d tell my brother dirty jokes and teach them curse words. I was such a bad kid. Determined to give my dad hell.”

“I’m sure you were adorable.”

“Even when I got older, I found it hard to forgive him. Even after he divorced his second wife, Nancy.”

“You never liked her?”

Wes drank some tea; it was warm and went down smoothly. “Actually, I did. She grew on me. There was this one time I got upset over something. I stomped outside, and she was gardening. I didn’t see her; if I had, I would have avoided her because I considered her worse than the Black Plague.”

Ginny smiled tenderly.

“I went outside by those back trees and I burst out crying.” Wes could see himself back then, a tall, athletic thirteen-year-old with longish black hair and a permanent scowl etched on his face, leaning against a birch tree and losing it. He wished he could go back and hug that young version of himself; tell him that it was going to be okay, that this would pass.

“She came over. Stood there while I got myself under control. Once I did, she handed me a little shovel and put me to work. She never said a word or asked me about it, nor did she mention it to anyone, but from that moment on, things changed between us.”

“I would have hugged you,” Ginny said fiercely, her eyes blazing. “I would have held you and told you that it was okay to cry, that you didn’t have to be stoic and hold everything in. That your dad loves you and your brothers.”

“You can hug me now.”

“I think you’re just trying to feel me up.”

“Busted.”

Nonetheless, she came over and hugged him. “I also think you’re trying to switch the subject. You can be real with me, Wes. I’m not going to hand you a shovel, and I’m not going to leave.”

No, he would be the one leaving.

He shook his head and let her go. “It’s not like any of us come from a perfect childhood. I was just so mad and betrayed that my dad would do anything like that to my mom—that he would cheat on her. And even though I did forgive him eventually, it wasn’t like I forgot it. I kept myself distant from him and my brothers.

“I wasn’t even around—didn’t even come down—when he had lung cancer because my mom had died the year before, and all that buried anger resurfaced. I needed to work that out and talk to someone. But when my mom died, I wondered how important it all was. My business, I mean. I started talking to my dad more on the phone and through e-mails. I still kept away though, making excuses because . . . I don’t know why. I think it was too hard to see him and think I had also failed him in some way by not coming down when he was sick. I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever forgive myself for that.”

“Wes, everyone has regrets and wishes they had done something differently in life. Trust me, I have
tons
.” Her eyes grew shadowed, distant, as if she, too, were recalling something. “It’s not like you can change the past. You can only grow from it, hopefully. And move on. You’re here now. You’re helping out. You seem to have a good relationship with your brothers and your dad.”

“Yeah. I guess.” But was it enough? Would he ever have that closeness to them like he’d had with his mom? Was him coming here a purely selfish move because he didn’t want to be alone? “I guess the main thing I realized was how important family is.” And how determined he was to try and forge a significant relationship with his dad and brothers so he didn’t have any future regrets.

“They’re lucky to have you, too.” Ginny stretched her arm across the table, resting her hand atop his. “Family is important. But there are other things that matter, too.”

The oven timer went off. Ginny stood and walked over, grabbing oven mitts on her way. She took out the pan; the smell of freshly baked brownies filled the air.

“I think these are done. I’ll let them cool down a bit.” She turned around, leaned against the counter. “I think that your dad is going to be fine, Wes. They’ll find him. You’ll have more of a reason to celebrate at Seth’s wedding in a couple of days. In the future, you might even laugh about this. I don’t know. You’re a good man, even if you are a con artist when it comes to skipping stones.”

“I never once said I sucked at skipping stones. You’re the one who made it seem like you had never played baseball. Talk about con jobs!”

“I didn’t play baseball; I played softball. Big difference.” She smiled. “I still sucked. Besides, we lost.”