Bride Quartet Collection (25 page)

“Of course.” Parker took a chair and, mimicking Linda’s pose, sat and crossed her legs. “You must be very excited. That’s a gorgeous ring.”

“Isn’t it?” Pleasure gushed again as Linda lifted her hand to admire it. “Ari is so thoughtful, and romantic. He’s swept me off my feet.”

“I think Mac mentioned he lives in New York. So you’ll be moving.”

“Very soon. I have a thousand things to see to first. My house, my things.”

“And Eloisa. I’m sure she’s excited at the idea of living in New York on college breaks when she’s not with her father.” Parker tipped her head slightly at Linda’s blank look.

“Oh, Eloisa’s ready to fly the nest. Of course we’ll have a room for her when she visits. At least until she can get her own place. Meanwhile, I have a wedding to plan. I wouldn’t dream of having anyone handle the details but you. Naturally we want the sort of affair that reflects Ari’s position and status. He’s a very important man, and—since we’re talking business—has the means to afford the very best. I’ll want to talk to the other girls about their end of things, but while I’m here I can give you a sense of what I’m looking for.”

“Vows isn’t going to be able to handle or host your wedding, Linda. We don’t have any dates open in June. In fact, we’re booked through the summer and fall.”

“Parker, you’re a businesswoman.” Linda spread her hands. “I’m offering you a major event, the sort that will bring this business of yours a great deal of attention, and certainly future clients. Ari knows important people, so I mean
major
clients. As I’ve got my heart set on having the wedding here, in the home of an old friend—one I still miss—we’ll compensate you for the short notice. How much do you estimate it would take to have a date open up in June. Say, the third Saturday?”

“You’re right, I’m a businesswoman.” Parker watched Linda smile in satisfaction. “I’m in the business of providing services for our clients. We have a client for the third Saturday in June. We’ve signed a contract with that client. When I give my word, I keep it. You really should consider having your wedding in New York. I can, if you like, give you names of other wedding planners.”

“I don’t want names. I said I wanted my wedding here. It’s important to me, Parker. I want to be married somewhere I feel at home, where I have a connection, to have people I love and trust looking after the details. I want—”

“Tears won’t work on me.” Parker’s voice turned cold as Linda’s eyes filled. “And I don’t care what you want. You’re not getting married here. So.” She got to her feet. “If that’s all, I’m busy.”

“You always thought you were better than us, looking down like you’re so much more important. A Brown of Connecticut. What are you now, renting out your big house, scrambling around serving drinks and running other people’s errands.”

“I’m a Brown of Connecticut, following a time-honored family tradition and earning a living.” She picked up Linda’s coat, offered it. “I’ll show you out.”

“When I tell Ari how you’ve treated me, he’ll put you out of business. You won’t be able to run a kid’s birthday party in this place. We’ll ruin you.”

“Oh, Linda, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that because it allows me to say something I’ve wanted to, for years. All the years I’ve watched you undermine and emotionally manipulate my best friend. All the years I’ve watched you alternately smother her or ignore her, as it suited your whims.”

Shock leached color from Linda’s cheeks. “You can’t speak to me that way.”

“I just did. Now I’ll finish. You’re not welcome in this house. Actually, you’ve never been welcome here, but tolerated. That ends now. You’ll only be permitted to walk in this door again if Mac wants it. Now get out of my house, get in your car, and get off my property.”

“And to think I wanted to do you a favor.”

Parker stood in the doorway, watching while Linda slid into her car. By the time she’d driven halfway home, Parker estimated, she’d believe that. She’d tried to do them a favor. She waited until the car gunned down the drive, then grabbed a jacket for the walk to Mac’s studio.

Mac met her at the door. “Parks, I—”

“Don’t apologize to me. You’ll piss me off.” She glanced at the studio space, noted the backdrop, the floor pillows. “You’ve got the engagement shoot. Soon,” she realized with a glance at her watch. “I’ll be quick.”

“How’d the consult go?”

“We didn’t get the job.”

“Did she cry or yell?”

“A little of both, with bribes and insults.”

“It’s amazing. She’s amazing. She really believes everyone’s world should revolve around her.” Weary of it, Mac pressed her fingers to her eyes and rubbed. “Within the hour, she’ll have turned this around to she was only asking as a favor to us, to try to boost the business. She was secretly relieved when we couldn’t manage the job, probably because it was too big for our business.”

“She was already on the way there when she walked out the door.”

“It’s a skill. Maybe it’ll last this time. The marriage, I mean. It’s pretty clear the guy’s got money, and plenty of it.”

“Bright side? She’ll be moving to New York.”

Mac paused. “I didn’t think of that. That whizzed by me. That’s a very bright side.” Still Mac sighed and moved in to drop her head on Parker’s shoulder. “Oh God, she tires me out.”

“I know.” Parker wrapped her arms around Mac in a hard hug. “Be okay,” Parker ordered.

“I will.”

“You want to come for ice cream after the shoot?”

“I might.”

“There’re the clients. I’ll get out of your way.”

“Parker? Even if we’d had the date open . . .”

“Oh, baby,” Parker said with some cheer as she went to the door. “No way in hell.”

With a shake of her head, Mac ordered herself not to feel guilty about that. At least not until after the shoot.

C
ARTER LOADED THE STACK OF ESSAYS IN HIS BRIEFCASE. THEY rode in the section that held a stack of test papers. His homework, he mused. He wondered if students had any idea how much homework the average teacher hauled away from the classroom every day.

On the board behind him he’d written the springboard for the essays he’d read that night.

Explore and compare the attitudes and philosophies of Rosalind and Jaques on love, and why you think each holds them.

The optimist and the pessimist, Carter thought, the melancholy and the joyful. His goal in the in-depth study of the play had been to guide his students under the surface of what might appear to be a light romantic comedy full of jokes and clever banter to the currents beneath.

Under all that, Carter supposed, his goal was to make his students think.

“Excuse me? Dr. Maguire?”

He glanced over at the woman in the doorway. “Yes. Can I help you?”

“I’m Suzanne Byers, Garrett’s mother.”

“Mrs. Byers, it’s nice to meet you. Come in.”

“I hoped to catch you before you left for the day. I won’t take up much of your time.”

“It’s no problem.”

“I couldn’t make Parents’ Night. I was down with the flu. I’d wanted to come, especially to speak to you. I guess you know Garrett didn’t have a strong start at the academy last year. And he didn’t come out of the starting gate with a bang this year either.”

“He’s made considerable progress, I think. Finding his stride. He’s bright. His participation in class has taken an upturn, and so have his grades and test scores this last semester.”

“I know. That’s why I wanted to speak to you. His father and I had been discussing taking him out of the academy.”

“I hope you won’t. Garrett—”

“Had been,” she interrupted. “We worked with him, threatened him, bribed him, tried private tutoring. Nothing got through, and we felt we were tossing away the tuition. Until a few months ago. It was like a light went on. He talks about books. He actually studies. He was genuinely disappointed when he got a B on his last paper in your class. I couldn’t speak for ten minutes when he told me, with some heat, he was going to ace the next one.”

“He could. He has the potential.”

“He talks about you. Dr. Maguire says, Dr. Maguire thinks. His grades in his other classes are improving—not by leaps and bounds, but they’re better. You did that.”

“Garrett did that.”

“You . . . engaged him so that he could do that. Would do that. He’s talking about taking your creative writing course next year. He thinks he may want to be a writer.” Her eyes filled. “Last year he barely passed. We had to meet with the dean. And now he’s telling me about Shakespeare, and he thinks he may want to be a writer.”

She blinked at the tears while he stood, speechless. “Dr. Maguire, according to Garrett, is pretty cool for a brainiac. I wanted you to know that whatever he does, whatever he becomes, he’s never going to forget you. I wanted to thank you.”

C
ARTER WALKED INTO MAC’S STUDIO WITH A LARGE PIZZA AND a light step. She sat on the sofa, her feet propped on the coffee table.

“Pizza,” he said, walking into the kitchen to set it on the counter. “I knew you had an afternoon shoot, and I have a briefcase full of papers to grade, so I thought pizza. Plus, it’s a happy food. I had a really good day.”

She groaned a little and had him crossing to her with concern. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Mostly. Pizza. I have a gallon of ice cream in my stomach. Possibly two gallons.”

“Ice cream.” He sat on the coffee table. “Was there a party?”

“No. Maybe. I guess it depends on your definition of party. Tell me about your really good day.”

He boosted up to kiss her, then sat back. “Hello, Mackensie.” “Hello, Carter. You’re wearing a very big smile.”

“I had one of those very big moments, for me. I have a student. He’s been a challenge, the sort who sits down and turns a switch in his head that takes him anywhere but the classroom.”

“Oh yeah, I had that switch. It was handy, especially during lectures on the Revolutionary War, or tariffs. Tariffs hit the switch automatically. Did your challenging student do well today?”

“He’s been doing well. It’s about finding another switch, the one that turns on interest and ideas. It shows in the eyes, just like the turn-off switch.”

“Really?”

“Garrett’s the kind of student who pushes a teacher to work a little harder. And when you find that switch, it’s intensely rewarding. He’s the one who got a B on that paper I graded on Valentine’s Day. Or the day before. I think of that as our Valentine’s Day.”

“Right. I remember. Good for Garrett.”

“His mother came to see me today. The majority of the time when a parent comes in, it’s not to bring an apple to the teacher. She brought me an orchard. She thanked me.”

“She thanked you.” Curious, Mac cocked her head. “That’s an orchard?”

“Yes. It’s not just about teaching facts and theories, or assignments and grades. It’s about . . . finding the switch. I found Garrett’s, and she came in to thank me. Now you have a very big smile.”

“You changed a life. You change lives.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“No, you do. I document them, or at least pieces of them. And that’s important, it’s valuable. But you change them, and that’s amazing. I’m going to get you some pizza. Which I can’t share with you,” she said as she rose. “Due to ice cream stomach.”

“Why did you eat a gallon, or possibly two?”

“Oh.” She shrugged as he followed her into the kitchen. “Greed.”

“You told me you turn to ice cream in times of emotional upheaval.”

She glanced over her shoulder as she got down a plate. “I sometimes forget how well you listen. Let’s just say I didn’t have a really good day. Or maybe I did,” she considered. “It depends on the point of view.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s not important. And you have Garrett pizza. Do you want a glass of wine with that?”

“Only if you’re having one when you tell me. We can spend the next few minutes circling around it, or you can save time and just tell me.”

“You’re right. Circling around it makes it more important than it deserves to be.” Another bad habit to break, she decided. “My mother’s getting married again.”

“Oh.” He studied her face as she poured the wine. “You don’t like him.”

“I have no idea. I’ve never met him.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t.” She laid a hand over his briefly. “You can’t see how a mother could be getting married without her daughter at least being able to pick the guy out of a lineup. I doubt Eloisa’s met him either, or that it’s occurred to Linda either of us should. Anyway the Elliot/Meyers/Barrington . . . God, I don’t know what her last name’s going to be this time. The Elliot/Meyers/ Barrington slash name to be determined connections don’t have family dinners, so meeting this new one isn’t a priority.”

“I’m sorry it upsets you.”

“I don’t know what it does. I don’t know why it surprises me. The last time I saw Linda was when she called here, hysterical at midnight, and I drove over there in a damn ice storm thinking she’d been raped or attacked or God knows.”

“What? When was this?” He turned his hand over to grip Mac’s “Was she hurt?”

“Oh, it was . . . that night of the parent thing at the academy, and no, she wasn’t hurt. Except in Linda Universe. She was curled up on the floor
dying
because Ari—that’s the new fiancé—had to fly to Paris on business and didn’t take her. I was about to call the police, and an ambulance, then she’s all boo-hoo Paris. I turned around and left. Points for me because the usual MO would be for me to, resentfully, calm her down, get her into bed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“I don’t know.” With a shake of her head, she blew out a breath. “I really don’t. It wasn’t one of those proud mother-daughter moments, so I guess I tried not to think about it afterward. I walked out, and told her I wouldn’t come the next time she called. I said very hard things and left.”

“They needed to be said, and you needed to leave.”

“You’re right, both counts,” Mac agreed. “And today, she whirls in here in her new fur and refrigerator-box-sized diamond as if none of it happened. Talk about flicking switches. She’s getting married in June. Ari is forgiven due to fur, diamond, and proposal. And she expects us to do the wedding. June is like a parade of brides around here. We’re booked. Much fury and anger ensues. Then she took on Parker. That was the good part. Parker shut her down, showed her the door. Then there was ice cream.”