A Wedding on Primrose Street (Life In Icicle Falls Book 7) (6 page)

Laney was going to have no regrets. Anne would see to it.

Chapter Six

Roberta, Woman of Mystery

“N
ice write-up in the paper,” Dot Morrison said when she stopped by Roberta and Daphne’s table at Pancake Haus to say hi.

“Thank you,” Roberta said, lining up the salt and pepper shakers. It
had
been a nice write-up, and sweet of Muriel to think of her.

“When are they going to do one on you?” Daphne asked.

“Next week,” Dot said. “Looks like they’re writing up all us old-timers first.”

Old-timer. Sometimes it seemed like only yesterday that Roberta had arrived in town. Back then, Icicle Falls had been transforming itself from a struggling town on the verge of extinction to an Alpine village. The place was so full of hope you could almost taste it. Roberta had, and that was why she’d decided to settle here. She’d needed a good dose of hope. And a job.

She’d gone into this very restaurant when she hit town. Back then, before Dot had come to Icicle Falls and taken over the place, it had been nothing more than a greasy spoon catering to truckers and travelers crossing the pass, but to her it had felt like an oasis.

1961

Roberta got off the bus in front of the café and went inside. Summer was coming early to the mountain town of Icicle Falls and it was a relief to get inside and escape the heat. She ordered a cup of coffee that tasted like battery acid and a fried egg that upset her stomach, still delicate so early in her pregnancy. The toast that came with it, once she’d scraped off the burned part, helped with the queasiness.

“Honey, you look done in,” said her waitress. The woman appeared to be the same age as Roberta’s mother. Her hair was what Mother would have labeled “bottle blond,” and the wrinkles around her mouth, along with the faint whiff of smoke coming off her, proclaimed her a smoker.

“I’m a little tired,” Roberta admitted.

“We got a motel on the other side of town,” said the waitress. “Nothing to write home about but it’s clean.”

Roberta couldn’t afford a motel. She nodded and thanked the woman anyway.

“Course, pretty soon we’ll have more going up, fancy ones like you’d see in Switzerland or Germany. This town is making some big changes. This time next year, it’ll really look like something.” She proceeded to tell Roberta all the plans in the works for putting Icicle Falls on the map. “My husband, Fred, and me, we’re saving up to build ourselves a hamburger place. To pass on to the kids, you know?”

Roberta had nothing to pass on to her child.

No, she corrected herself. She had love. This baby would be well loved and well cared for.

If she could find a job.

And a place to stay. But her money supply was dwindling and she couldn’t spend it on motel rooms. “Is there anyone in town who takes in boarders?” she asked.

Before the waitress could answer, someone new walked in, a pretty woman with brown hair wearing a white blouse and pedal pushers. She had an equally pretty little daughter with chestnut curls. The daughter stared at Roberta curiously as they approached the table.

She supposed she’d stare at herself, too, and wonder what someone her age was doing, traveling all alone. Soon she’d be showing, and with no wedding ring people would really stare. They’d do more than stare if they knew she was only seventeen. Well, she’d be eighteen in two months. Then she’d be an adult and no one could force her to do anything. She tried not to think about what a lonely birthday it would be.

“Hi, Flo,” said the woman.

“Hi, Betty,” the waitress said. “How’s the cleanup going?”

“Great. The men have hauled those dead cars and car parts off for old Billy. And that’s the last eyesore gone.”

The waitress nodded approvingly. Then, remembering Roberta, said, “This young lady’s looking for a place to stay. Do you know of anything?”

“Sarah Shepherd’s taking in boarders,” the newcomer named Betty replied. She turned to Roberta and introduced herself. “And this is my daughter, Muriel.”

“Hi, Muriel.” Roberta smiled and Muriel said a polite hello in return.

“So you’re new in town?” Betty asked.

Roberta nodded.

“Where you from, dear?” asked Flo the waitress.

“California,” Roberta lied.

Flo let out a low whistle. “You’re a ways from home.”

“I needed to make a new start,” Roberta said. That was no lie. “I’m a widow.”

“A widow,” echoed Flo. “And you so young!”

“My husband was killed in a car accident.”

“Oh, how sad,” Betty said. “I’m very sorry.”

Roberta murmured her thanks. “This seems to be a nice town,” she ventured.

“You could do a lot worse than settle here,” Flo told her.

“Hey, Flo,” called a husky man seated a couple of tables down. “Are you gonna take my order or leave me here to starve?”

“You could live off that fat belly of yours for days, Hal,” Flo retorted. She rolled her eyes. “Guess I’d better go take his order,” she said and left.

“Mind if I join you?” Betty asked. Before Roberta could answer, she slid into the bench on the other side of the booth, her daughter following suit. “When did you lose your husband?”

“It’s been...a while.” Roberta could feel her cheeks warming. How many questions was this woman going to ask?

“I can’t imagine losing a husband at such a young age,” Betty said, shaking her head. “I hope he left you well provided for?”

“I’m afraid not,” Roberta said. “We hadn’t been married very long,” she improvised. They hadn’t been married at all, but that wasn’t something she was going to share with a stranger. It wasn’t something she was going to share with
anyone
. Ever.

“Do you know if anyone in town is hiring?” she hurried on. If no one was, there was no point in staying. She’d have to keep moving on. Where, she wasn’t sure. When she’d first hit the road, all she’d wanted to do was put as much distance between herself and Seattle as she could. Now she realized she should have planned more carefully.

Except there hadn’t been time to plan.

Across the table from her Betty was looking sympathetic. “I hear they need a teller over at the bank. My husband and the manager are friends. I’d be happy to put in a word for you.”

“But you don’t know me.” For all this woman knew, Roberta could be a con artist. In a way she was.

“I’m pretty good at sizing people up. You seem like an honest young woman.”

She was anything but.

“What do you think, Muriel?” Betty asked, smiling at the girl.

“I think she’s pretty,” Muriel said, then blushed.

“Thank you,” Roberta murmured. Being pretty wasn’t always an advantage. Sometimes it got a girl in trouble. “I’m a hard worker,” she said to Betty. Not that she’d ever had any job besides babysitting. But she’d work hard for whoever hired her.

“I’m sure you are,” Betty said kindly. “I tell you what. How about after breakfast I take you down to the bank and introduce you to Howard Mangle, the manager? Then I can show you where the Shepherds live.”

The woman’s generosity was almost too much. Roberta felt tears flooding her eyes. “You’re very kind.”

Betty cocked her head and studied Roberta in a way that had her cheeks heating again. “I suspect you’re a woman in need of a little kindness right now.”

* * *

If Betty had guessed Roberta’s real story, she never let on. Instead, she’d taken Roberta under her wing and helped her get settled in town. Roberta had spent many a Sunday at Betty’s house, enjoying dinner with her family. Betty and her husband, Joe, had helped Roberta move when, a few years later, she’d found her Victorian. Roberta had watched Muriel grow up and had been a regular customer of Sweet Dreams Chocolates ever since the day she got her job at the bank and splurged on a box of chocolate-covered cherries. She’d met new friends and made something of herself. Staying in Icicle Falls had turned out to be a good decision.

Maybe it would be for Daphne, too. Maybe here Daphne would finally get inspired to do more with her life. Open a shop, live up to her name and become a writer like Daphne du Maurier. Or Muriel. Something. Anything. So far all she’d been inspired to do was mope around the house.

“I hear you’re back to stay,” Dot said to Daphne.

“I’ve sure had enough of Seattle,” Daphne replied.

“Well, I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out, kiddo,” Dot said. “But sometimes a woman is better off on her own. Look how well your mom and I have done.”

Daphne heaved a huge sigh. “You’re probably right. I don’t seem to do very well at picking men.”

“It’s hard to pick a good one when so many of the ones hanging on the branch are rotten,” Dot said.

Daphne pushed back a lock of blond hair. “I suppose there are still some good men out there. I’ve just never been able to find one.”

My poor daughter
, Roberta thought.
Where did I go wrong?
Daphne should have been happily married. And successful. But here she was, rejected, dejected and living with her mother.

“Muriel sure knows how to find the good ones,” Dot said. “In fact, you should talk to her daughter. Cecily used to be a matchmaker. Maybe she’ll have some ideas for you.”

“Like how to murder my husband?”

Roberta frowned at her, but Dot chuckled. “Things’ll work out. They always do.”

“Daphne!” Roberta scolded as Dot moved on to greet her other customers.

“Sorry,” Daphne said in an unrepentant voice, “but I really could murder him. Stake him out in the sun covered with honey and let the ants have at him.”

“There’s an appetizing image,” Roberta said in disgust. “Although I must admit, even that’s better than he deserves.” She’d never say it publicly, but she wouldn’t mind getting a chance to put her hands around Mitchell’s throat.

“Every time I think of him and that woman I want to...” Daphne crumpled her paper napkin.

Roberta reached across the table and patted her arm. “He didn’t deserve you, dear. You’re well rid of him.”

Daphne’s eyes filled with tears. “How could he do this to me?”

Quite easily, it seemed. But since that was obviously a rhetorical question, Roberta kept her answer to herself. She gave her daughter’s arm another encouraging pat. “We’re not going to waste any more energy talking about him. Instead, we’ll focus on you. We need to come up with a plan for what you’re going to do next. You can’t just mope around the house all day.”

“I don’t want to mope. Let me help with the next wedding.”

“There’s really nothing left to do,” Roberta said. “Everything’s under control.”

Daphne looked at her, reproach in her eyes. “You don’t want me to help.”

Yes, that was part of it.

“You should let me,” Daphne urged. “You may as well plug me in now. You’ve got bunion surgery coming up in May. You’ll need the extra help.”

She probably would. She’d planned to delegate more work to Lila. “Darling, you’re going to be busy with your divorce.”

“Not that busy.”

“Well, then, you should be busy job-hunting. You don’t want to work on weddings, not in your present state of mind.”

“I want to help you. I want to be useful.”

“You’re being useful.” Daphne had cleaned the whole house the day before, even transferred her dirty breakfast dishes from the sink to the dishwasher without being nagged.

“I could do more if you’d let me. If you’d believe in me,” Daphne added softly.

Was that what Daphne thought? That she didn’t believe in her? If she hadn’t believed in her daughter, why would she have wasted her breath all these years suggesting things Daphne could do to improve her life?

“I’m fifty-three and you still don’t see me as anything but a failure,” Daphne said.

“That’s not true.” Except it was. Oh, dear.

The waitress arrived to take their orders, ending the conversation for the moment. Roberta found she didn’t have much of an appetite. “Coffee, please,” she said.

Why did everything have to be so difficult between mothers and daughters? Or was it just her and Daphne?

Maybe it
was
just her. She was always encouraging Daphne to try more, do more, be more, but whenever Daphne offered to help with the business, Roberta put her off.

Daphne wanted Roberta to be proud of her, possibly even more than Roberta did. She needed to give her daughter a chance to earn that pride, something Roberta’s mother had never done for her.

“Would you like to assist with setup for the next wedding?” she asked after their waitress left. There was a task Daphne could manage just fine.

“I’d be happy to,” Daphne said and smiled.

Roberta smiled, too. It wasn’t too late to make some changes. Daphne needed to feel useful, and Roberta could use the extra help. Really, she was a lucky woman to have such a sweet daughter who wanted to be part of her life. This could be a win-win situation.

Or a disaster.

Chapter Seven

Laney, on the Bridal Trail

“W
hat do you want to do this weekend?” Drake asked as he dragged a French fry through his ketchup.

Laney stared out the car window at the row of customers standing in front of Dick’s Drive-in in the University district, waiting to order burgers and shakes. “Uh, I have to go to Icicle Falls this weekend.”

“Huh?” The look he gave her was both surprised and accusatory.

Suddenly the hamburger she’d been eating didn’t taste so good. She should’ve told him. She’d had all week to tell him. They always hung out on the weekend.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should’ve told you.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been nice.”

Now he was frowning and she felt like a rotten girlfriend. People who were in love should spend their weekends together. “My mom wants me to go see a house up there that she thinks would be great for us to get married in.”

He stuffed a handful of French fries in his mouth and digested that information.

“It can’t hurt to look,” she went on. “Since we haven’t actually decided what we want to do.”

“Well, I know what I want to do, and I thought you did, too.”

“I do. I did. I don’t know.” Eloping to Vegas had sounded like fun. She’d never been and was dying to see the fountain at the Bellagio, eat in one of those fancy restaurants and play the slot machines. But then her mom had talked about how important her wedding was and how Laney didn’t want to do anything she’d regret and she’d had second thoughts. And Mom kept talking about that place in Icicle Falls, as though it was so special. “I just want to go up there and see. Okay?”

“Sure, but...” He frowned.

“But what?”

“If you’re going up to look at a place where we might get married, I should go, too.”

He should, but nobody had invited him. Oh, that hamburger really wasn’t sitting well. “It’s a girls’ trip. My aunt and grandma are going, too.” As if that was supposed to make him
not
feel left out? “You’d be so bored,” Laney added.

Now he was looking out the window and frowning.

“Don’t be mad,” she said, laying a pleading hand on his thigh. She hated it when he wasn’t happy.

“I’m not mad. I’m...” The frown got bigger. “Well, okay, I’m kind of mad.”

“I probably won’t like the place anyway.” But maybe she would. If Mom thought it was such a wonderful place, she needed to at least check it out. After all, Mom was the wedding expert.

He took a deep breath and expelled it, then reached over and gave her the little one-handed neck massage that always made her melt. “It’s okay if you do. I want you to be happy.”

“Hey, I’m marrying you. How can I not be happy?”

That took away the last of his frown. And the kiss she gave him put a smile back on his face. “We could go to Vegas for our honeymoon,” he said. “We were gonna hang around there after we got married anyway.”

It seemed like a good compromise. Laney set aside the vision of herself standing on the deck of the wedding ship in Siren’s Cove at Treasure Island. If they had a more traditional wedding, they could have a big party with a ton of guests. That would be way better. Not very unusual or interesting, though. Kind of...boring.

She realized she was the one frowning now. A more traditional wedding didn’t have to be boring, she told herself. She could give it flair, add her own personal touch. Besides, a wedding with lots of family and friends would be fun and would make her parents happy, especially her mom. Everyone would be happy.

Well, maybe not Drake. Oh, man.

“Would you really mind if we had a more—”
Oops, almost said “boring”
“—traditional wedding?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Hey, it’s all about the bride, right?”

But he was disappointed; she could tell. His smile wasn’t lighting up his eyes. “It’s all about
both
of us.”

“I’m cool with whatever you decide,” he said.

“No, you’re not.”

He drew her to him and touched his forehead to hers. “Yeah, I am. So go up to Icicle Falls with your mom and have fun. And send me pics.”

Okay, that settled it. Sort of. For now. Part of her still wasn’t sure. She reminded herself that she didn’t have to say yes to the house in Icicle Falls if she didn’t like it.

Although if she didn’t, Mom would be disappointed. Grammy, too.

Aunt Kendra, on the other hand, would say, “Do what you want.” Only problem was, Laney wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.

That was both atypical and unsettling. Laney always knew what she wanted, and it was often very different from what her mom wanted for her. She still remembered the first time she and her mother had disagreed. She’d wanted to wear her princess jammies to kindergarten, and Mom had insisted on play clothes. She’d whined, cried and finally thrown herself on the floor, refusing to get up. And she’d won a major battle. Sort of. She’d gotten to wear her princess jammies, but she’d done it at home because Mom refused to take her to school. Even in kindergarten her mother hadn’t approved of her sense of style.

Some things never changed. First princess jammies, then piercings, then tats. Mom thought she was with it, but she was really kind of a conformist. She didn’t like coloring outside the lines. Literally. “Inside the lines, sweetie, like this,” she’d said whenever she colored in Laney’s coloring book with her. “That’s right. A purple cow? Now, how about we make the next one brown?”

Like Dad, she’d worried when Laney decided to major in art that she’d never be able to support herself and had quit worrying only when Laney decided to go back to school in the fall and get a teaching degree. She thought Laney’s place in Seattle’s free-spirit Fremont district was dumpy and hated the way Laney and Autumn had decorated it. Not that she’d come right out and said so, but Laney could read her mother as easily as a graphic novel. Mom didn’t do well with extremes. She had one piercing in each ear and wore the same small diamond earrings almost every day. She dressed conservatively and drove a Volvo because it was supposed to be the safest car on the road.

All of that was okay. For Mom. But Laney was different from her mother, and much as she loved Mom, she had to be true to herself. She’d look at the place in Icicle Falls but she wasn’t making any promises.

A good thing she hadn’t, she thought when they pulled into town.
This is so not Vegas.
Still, she had to admit it was cute. It was almost as though she’d stepped into another country, with the frescoes painted on the buildings and all the flower boxes under shop windows. Then there was the river running alongside the town. She could see herself and Drake rafting on it. She took a picture with her phone and sent it to him.

Let’s go on it
, he texted back.

“The river would be perfect for your wedding party to go inner tubing on before the rehearsal,” Mom said.

Inspiration hit. “We could even get married on the river, on a raft.” She texted Drake.
Want to get married on it?

Sure
, came the reply.

“It might be hard to get on a river raft in a wedding gown,” Grammy said from the backseat.

Did she want a traditional wedding gown? Maybe not. “I could wear shorts and a bikini top. And a bridal veil,” Laney added, picturing herself in white shorts and a white bikini top.

“Shorts?” Mom said weakly.

Okay, maybe that wouldn’t work, either. “It was a thought.” Suddenly she was remembering the princess jammies. “But if we get married on the river...” She needed to keep her options open.

“Let’s get checked in and then go buy some chocolate,” Aunt Kendra said, pulling them back from the river’s edge.

“Great idea,” Grammy said.

“I’m all for that,” Mom agreed. “How about a trip to Sweet Dreams before we see the house?” she asked Laney.

“Great idea,” Laney repeated. They might not see eye to eye on fashion trends; they might not see eye to eye on wedding venues, either. But there was one thing they always agreed on, and that was chocolate.

They all checked into the Icicle Creek Lodge, which, according to Mom, was the best place in town. “They’ve got a honeymoon suite,” Mom said.

If you asked Laney, it looked like a place her grandmother would stay in with its old-fashioned carpeting and the ornate, old European-style furniture. But the beds in the room she was sharing with her mom were comfy with their crisp, white comforters, and the view out the window was killer awesome.

Mom joined her at the window. “It’s gorgeous up here, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Laney said.

“And there’s a lot to do. Hiking, rock climbing, shopping, inner tubing.”

She could get into all of that. Laney nodded.

Mom turned from the view to look at her. “What do you think of the town?”

“It’s cute.”

“If you don’t like it, we can have the wedding in Seattle,” Mom said. “But the house really is beautiful.”

Laney nodded. It probably was.

“Well,” Mom said, “let’s go get some chocolate.”

They went to the room next door and collected Aunt Kendra and Grammy, then went to the Sweet Dreams gift shop. Oh, yeah. It was worth coming up here just for the salted caramels. Laney bought some to take home to Drake.

Then they were off to check out Primrose Haus.

“This is charming,” Grammy said as they parked in front of the pink Victorian.

Yeah, Laney would give it that. She snapped a picture and sent it to Drake.

Once inside, they met the owner, Roberta Gilbert, and her daughter, Daphne, who gave them a tour of the place. Laney could see why her mother had fallen in love with this house. With its fancy mirrors and decorations, it was impressive, almost like a museum.

Could she see herself in here in a long, lacy gown?
Not sure
, she texted Drake.

Your call
, he texted back.

The outdoor space was impressive. It looked like the set of some PBS movie. And the mountains rising in the background were impressive. Maybe they could get married on the river and have the reception here. Laney took a picture with her phone and sent it to Drake with the subject heading
This is cool
.

Mtns
, he texted back.
Rock climbing?

Sure
, she replied. They could find enough to do here.

Meanwhile, Mom, Grammy and Aunt Kendra were all firing questions at Mrs. Gilbert and her daughter.

“As I mentioned when I talked to you, we have a wonderful florist in town,” Mrs. Gilbert was saying to Mom.

“But we can also think outside the box when it comes to decorations,” her daughter said. “Like balloons.”

Laney smiled. “That sounds fun.”

“Weddings
should
be fun,” Daphne said with a smile. The smile soured. “Considering what you have to deal with after the wedding’s over.”

Mrs. Gilbert cleared her throat. “We also have a caterer here in town and an excellent baker.”

“Can she make cakes like the ones you see on
Cake Boss
?” Laney asked.

“She can make anything you want.”

“Including cakes made of donuts,” added Daphne. “That’s a new trend we’ve been seeing.”

“I like that.” The image of a big tower of donuts made Laney smile. “I’m thinking of actually getting married on the river.”

“We have a lovely park there,” Mrs. Gilbert said diplomatically.

“And having the reception here,” Mom put in.

“We cater to whatever the bride wants,” Mrs. Gilbert said. “We’ll show you the reception room.”

It was certainly bigger than the deck of a pirate ship. Laney looked around, picturing herself dancing there with Drake and their friends. Okay, a wedding on the river, followed by a reception here. They could do that.

“So, what did you think?” Mom asked as they drove away.

“It could work,” Laney said.

“I can see you getting married under that rose arbor,” Mom said.

There was something in her voice, as though she was talking about what she’d do if she won the lottery. It left Laney biting her lip and looking out the window.

“Or coming down that staircase in a long, white gown,” Grammy added dreamily.

“Or princess jammies,” teased Aunt Kendra.

“You’ll be such a beautiful bride,” Mom said, smiling at Laney as if they’d already settled everything.

“I haven’t decided on anything yet,” Laney said, determined not to get pushed into a snap decision.

“Of course, you need time to think,” Mom said.

Yes, she did. Still, Laney felt outnumbered and outgunned, as if no matter what she said, she was going to end up at the house on Primrose Street in an old-fashioned, lacy gown.

Maybe that was what she wanted, deep down, to look like Kate Middleton. Mom had been glued to the TV, watching the whole royal extravaganza and drooling over it. But it was hard to shake the excitement in Drake’s voice out of her memory or the little thrill she’d felt when he said, “Let’s get married in Vegas.”

“What did you think of the house?” Aunt Kendra asked her as they stood in line at Herman’s Hamburgers, waiting to order cheeseburgers and garlic fries for everyone.

Laney shrugged. “It’s fancy.”

“Yeah, it is. Is it you?”

Laney chewed her bottom lip. That was the problem. The house was beautiful. Any wedding held there would be like a storybook wedding. But
was
it her? She’d always thought she wanted to look like a Disney princess at her wedding, but she wasn’t sure she was really princess material. So far no Disney princess had tattoos. Would it be the wedding of a lifetime or the mistake of a lifetime? Having a wedding reception in a house seemed so...
No, don’t use the B word.
Anyway, her reception didn’t have to be boring. A house that old, maybe it was haunted. Maybe they’d see a ghost. Maybe they could have the guests come as ghosts.

Maybe that was a dumb idea.

“If it isn’t calling to you, don’t do it,” Aunt Kendra cautioned just as Mom joined them.

Mom’s brows drew together. She looked like the bad fairy Maleficent in
Sleeping Beauty
right before she changed into a dragon. “What are you telling her?”