Bikini Season (26 page)

Authors: Sheila Roberts

BOOK: Bikini Season

10.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Good old Uncle Jake. After she became engaged he got licensed to marry and conduct funerals. Active in his church for years, Uncle Jake had joked that with as much as he did for the church he might as well have a piece of paper that made him official, but Erin knew he'd really done this just so he could officiate at her wedding. Her uncle marrying her and her brother giving her awayâwhat more could she ask for? Suddenly, she wanted to cry.

Aunt Mellie gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Your mother would have been so proud.”

They trooped into the little building directly across from the main lodge, which had been turned into a wedding chapel. Erin tried to imagine it full of people and flowers and music the following day and couldn't. She tried to see herself up at the altar. All she could see was old-fashioned wooden pews and old wood floors, stained-glass windows filtering in colored light. It will be beautiful tomorrow, she told herself.

“Are you okay?” Kizzy had whispered at one point during the rehearsal dinner.

“Me? Yes, I'm fine.”

She told that to Adam, too, who asked her the same thing later that night. “It's been a long time coming. Now that it's here it almost seems surreal.”

“It will all be real tomorrow,” he whispered, and kissed her gently.

It will all be real tomorrow.

That night she tossed and turned and wrestled with her pillow. The Sandman finally escorted her into Dreamland some time before dawn and then smacked her in the face with a bad dream. In it she was getting married in army fatigues in the middle of a combat zone. Their minister was a drill sergeant, who kept shouting at her, “This is not a drill, soldier!” And then the ground under her
feet began to shake and the candelabras started swaying, flicking melted wax on everyone. “Earthquake!” screamed her aunt.

She sat up in bed in a cold sweat, panting. Okay, it was only a dream. She shouldn't have eaten so many pickles at dinner.

Eating. She suddenly felt a need for â¦ something. She looked at the bedside clock. Eight A.M. She had time. She showered and slipped into jeans and a top and drove to the Safeway.

A mocha, that was what she needed. She bought a Grande at the Starbucks kiosk and then wandered the store, sipping it. Maybe she'd get some pastries to take over to Aunt Mellie's where everyone was congregating for brunch.

She slipped down the frozen food aisle past a couple around Kizzy and Lionel's age, lingering in front of a selection of frozen desserts. Something in the man's tone of voice as he talked to his wife made her stop to eavesdrop.

“For God's sake, Martha, are we going to be here all morning?”

“I was just thinking a pound cake would be nice,” said the woman.

“Oh, come on. You don't need that.”

Erin jumped away as if she'd been scalded.
You don't need that.
Where had she heard those words before? As if she didn't know.

But Adam would never talk to her like that. That wouldn't be them in thirty years.

She fled the store for the safety of Aunt Mellie's house.
Nerves, it's just nerves
.

Twenty-four

T
he day became a blur: breakfast with the wedding party and family at her aunt's, then the afternoon hair appointment and makeup session with her bridesmaids, then off to the lodge to take pictures before the ceremony.

Adam was gorgeous, attentive, and romantic. “You look beautiful,” he whispered. “I'm the luckiest man in Heart Lake.”

The butterflies in her tummy began to settle down.

And then, on their way to the gazebo for some bride and groom shots, they walked past the bank of glass windows and he looked in at the reception area. “All that for appetizers?” he wondered.

Erin followed his gaze to the tables dressed up in fine linen and sparkling with crystal and silver. In the center of each table, beta fish swam inside tall glass vases sprouting exotic Japanese grasses and flowers. Short glass candleholders with votive candles surrounded them, waiting to be lit.

Erin's pulse quickened and her stomach clenched. “Actually, it's going to be a little more than appetizers.”

“What do you mean?”

“We're having the salmon buffet.”

“What?”

“Don't worry. It was a gift.”

“A gift? Awesome. Who gave us that?”

“My brother.” No lie. Brett had paid for half.

“No shit? I thought he was broke.”

“Well, he went halves with someone.” Her cheeks were getting warmer by the minute. Her face had to be turning red. Hopefully, Adam wouldn't notice.

He looked at her suspiciously. “Who?”

“Just an old family friend,” she said breezily.

“Does this friend have a name?”

“Dan Rockwell,” she said quickly. She lifted her skirts and picked up her pace.

“Dan Rockwell, why does that name sound familiar?”

They were at the gazebo now. The photographer Adam had wanted to use was already there, fiddling with his camera as if he was trying to figure out how to work it.

He looked up at them and grinned. “So, how about you two go on in there and we'll take a couple of shots.”

“Wait a minute,” Adam said to Erin, his brows lowering, “isn't that the guy who was dancing with you on Valentine's Day?”

“Yes.” Now Erin's whole face felt hot. Why was she blushing? She had nothing to be embarrassed about.

“That's a damned expensive gift. Why is he doing that?”

“I just told you. He's an old friend of the family.”

“And why didn't you tell me about this before now?” Adam demanded.

“I only found out a couple of days ago.”

“You could have told me a couple of days ago.”

Yes, she could have, and now she wished she had. “Adam, I'm sorry.” Why, oh, why hadn't she told him? The answer to that was simple. They'd have fought about it, like they were about to now.

“I don't like some guy giving you such an expensive present,” Adam continued, frowning.

“Well, it's a little late to say âno, thanks.'”

“You could have when you first found out.”

“The salmon was already in.”

“And it was what you wanted all along anyway, wasn't it?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” As if she didn't know. She could tell by his snotty tone of voice exactly what he meant.

Adam shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn't matter now. I don't want you seeing this Dan clown after we're married. And no more presents.”

“So, how about you two hold hands?” suggested the photographer.

They grabbed each other's hands.

“That's pretty ungracious,” said Erin.

“How would you feel if some old girlfriend decided to pay for our wedding dinner?” Adam demanded, scowling.

“Grateful,” Erin snapped.

“And how about a smile?” added the photographer.

“Adam, it's too late to do anything about it at this point. Can we forget who paid for the salmon and remember why we're here? Please?”

“Still looking for that smile,” coaxed the photographer.

“That will be hard to do when it's time to eat. I just think you should have told me,” Adam reiterated. “That's all.”

“I think I'll just go take some candid pictures. You guys let me know when you're ready,” said the photographer, slipping away.

Adam was pouting now. “I don't like it.”

Erin threw up her hands. “This is ridiculous. This is supposed to be the happiest day of our lives and we're arguing over a salmon dinner. That someone else paid for. What's wrong with that picture, Adam?”

He plopped down onto the little wooden bench that ringed the gazebo and scowled up at her. “You tell me.”

“All right, I will. It's you.”

“I'm not the one with old girlfriends hanging around,” he retorted.

“He's not an old boyfriend. I told you, he's an old friend of the family. He and my brother were best friends.”

“Did he buy a salmon supper for your brother?”

Erin sat down next to him and laid a hand on his arm. “You're the one I'm marrying. Doesn't that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does,” he said, his words clipped.

“Then please, let's not fight.” She took his hand in hers. “I want this day to be memorable, don't you?”

He looked out at the lake, calm and shimmering blue, and nodded. “It just bugs me that this guyâ”

She put her fingers to his lips and stopped him. “Adam, people who care about us have done a lot of nice things to make this day special for us. Aunt Mellie and my sister-in-law spent a whole day making appetizers, your parents gave us our wedding cake. Let's just take all those nice gifts and say âthank you,' okay?”

He frowned and nodded. “You're right. I'm being an asshole.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Come on, let's go find the photographer.”

Erin bounced up, nearly crying with relief.

“But just remember. After we're married that guy is history.”

Everything was fine after that. They smiled for the photographer, they stood at the edge of the lake and looked lovingly into each other's eyes. They kissed. Then they made their way back to the chapel to wait in their respective corners with their attendants for the big moment. They passed by the glass-encased reception room and saw the china and crystal twinkling in the early evening sunlight. Somewhere off in the distance a woman laughed. Inside, Erin saw movement and realized it was Dan's band setting up their equipment.

Kizzy's words blew through her mind like a hurricane.
It's never too late to change your mind
.

She turned her head away, looking instead at Adam, smiling at Adam, gripping Adam's arm. She didn't need to change her mind.

He covered her hand with his, whispered, “I love you,” and kissed her.

It was perfect. Perfect!

She walked into the ladies' lounge off the foyer at the back of the chapel and the door shut after her.

Her bridesmaids stopped chatting and smiled at her. They looked perfect in their sage-green evening skirts and chocolate-brown tops. Perfect. Oh, God.

“There you are!” Angela cried happily. “You look beautiful.”

Erin turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror on the wall. Her aunt had let out the dress, but you'd never know by looking at it. It still looked beautiful: taffeta eyelet with lace detail, a pale green ribbon around the waist, and a trumpet skirt with a sweep train. The floral comb in her hair and her green tourmaline earrings made her look like a woodland fairy queen. The woman in the mirror looked perfect.

The woman looking at her suddenly couldn't breathe.

Angela, who had been standing next to her, smiling, suddenly looked as panicked as Erin felt. “Erin, what's wrong?”

“I can't breathe,” she panted, grabbing at her chest.

Megan was up to her in two quick strides. “You're just having a panic attack. Here, sit down.”

“Get a doctor,” Erin gasped.

“Get Adam,” Megan ordered.

“Not him!”

“She has to breathe into a bag,” said Angela. She grabbed a handbag from a nearby chair and rushed over to Erin, opening it as she went. “Here, breathe into my purse.”

Erin couldn't even hold the purse. It slipped from her hands. “I can't breathe, I can't breathe.” She was going to die, right here in the chapel bathroom.

“You can,” Megan said firmly. “Look at me. Take a slow breath.” To Angela she said, “Get Kizzy. Now.”

With a whimper, Angela fled the room. Carly knelt in front of Erin, taking a hand and chafing it.

“You're going to be fine,” said Megan. “Take another breath.”

Erin shook her head wildly. “I can't do this.”

“Yes you can. Breathe slowly.”

“I can't marry Adam.” There. She'd said it. It was out. The weight that had been pressing harder and harder on her was suddenly off her chest.

Megan sat back on her heels. “Well, it's about time.”

Erin thought of the guests, of the wedding cake her non-future in-laws had bought, of the salmon buffet and the guests arriving. And Adam. What was Adam going to say? “I can't breathe!”

Now Kizzy was in the room. “What's going on?”

“She's finally come to her senses,” Megan said, and Erin burst into tears.

“I don't want to marry Adam,” she cried.

“We know,” Kizzy said comfortingly.

“What am I going to do?”

“Just say no,” advised Angela.

“My wedding,” Erin lamented.

“Is screwed,” Megan said, and Kizzy glared at her. “But better a screwed wedding than a screwed life,” she quickly added.

Kizzy took both Erin's hands. “I know you thought you were making a smart choice, but a woman's got to choose with her head and her heart. Your heart's been numb for a long time.”

“Well, it's not now. It hurts,” Erin sobbed.

Kizzy sat on the arm of the chair and hugged her. “I know. Go ahead and cry.”

And so she did. She cried over the way she'd deceived both herself and Adam into thinking they'd be great together, for the way
she'd used him like a security blanket. She cried over how stupid she'd been, pretending that planning a perfect wedding would translate into a perfect relationship. There was only one man who could give her that.

She was still crying when Aunt Mellie entered the room. “Ready to start down the â¦ Oh, dear.”

“It's all right,” Kizzy assured her.

“Yes,” added Angela. “It's really worse than it looks.”

Aunt Mellie knelt in front of Erin. “What is it, sweetie?”

“It's an earthquake,” Erin whimpered. “I can't marry Adam.”

Aunt Mellie nodded. “You're right. You can't.”

Erin wiped her eyes and said in a shaky voice, “I have to talk to him.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” offered her aunt.

She shook her head.

“Okay. We'll be right here,” said Aunt Mellie.

“What just happened?” asked Carly, looking from one woman to the other as soon as Erin was gone.

“A mess,” said Angela.